My therapist isn't dead (Yay!)

4:57 p.m. Wednesday: The phone rings.

Me: Hello?
Her: "Katherine?"
Me: Umm, actually, it's just Kate.
Her: "This is Miriam."
Me: Miriam! I'm so glad you're okay!

I realize instantly how bad that sounds, so I explain that when she didn't show up or call, I was worried something had happened to her.

Apparently, in three years of graduate school, Miriam's never had a night appointment, and she just forgot. Of course! She forgot! So why was my sick little head conjuring up images of my therapist being eaten by the Big Bad Wolf on the way to my first session? Hey, I'm a realist. :)

I didn't relate the story about Hilary, a philosophy graduate student who was kidnapped and killed when I was a student. I was editing at TDH at the time, and it just ... ate at me inside. It really hurt. I mean, I'd never met Hilary, but when I spoke to her friends, I just ... ugh. That may have been one of the first times I realized I couldn't do hard journalism.

Um, it's an interesting dichotomy, the life of a journalist. There's a lot of emphasis placed on being impartial, an outsider looking in and reporting just what you see. But at the same time, journalists are always taught to get in the middle of things. To be on site. To see everything, report everything, censor nothing except feelings. There is simply no outlet for most journalists, which is why so many of them end up at DCJT.

There were other times, like on September 11, when I sent teams of reporters here and there, then sat in my office alone and cried. Even now, I scan the AP and Reuters for local stories and get hung up on how little good news is out there each day. It's a real downer.

That was a huge digression, but one that needed to be made. It's been, oh, three years since I did any newspaper management stuff; much longer since I was writing. Funny how, after all this time, my mind still wanders back to thinking like a reporter: never quiet, always noting, always suspicious.

So, I'm glad Miriam's okay. I meet her at 7 p.m. tomorrow. I will attempt to quell the panic that is already washing over me now.