Editor's Note: The post is an excerpt from a journal of Colin Brock.
Midnight. New Year. Y2K. Watched the ball drop in New York. No massive power outages. Computer still works.
I wonder what my parents will do with all the bags of beans they stockpiled.
“Failing to prepare is preparing to fail,” Dad said.
“Hand me that box of spam,” Mom said.
“Hope you bought enough antacid,” I said.
8:00 am. Found a local public radio station. Listened to the news earlier. Then they switched to classical music. Not bad. Now getting to work on setting up this apartment.
7:00 pm. Apartment clean. Organized mostly. Will finish tomorrow.
January 2, 2000
Sunday
8:30 am. Not great sleep last night. Neighbors played their music till 2:00 am. I’m glad to be in my own place. I just wish the walls weren’t so thin. Or even better: new neighbors.
I thought about visiting that church my parents told me about. But I’m too tired. Still a lot to organize. Besides, I make all my own decisions now.
12:00 pm. I walked to a sandwich shop near my apartment. Got a meatball sub. On the way back I saw a dog. He was tearing into a paper bag near a dumpster. Then I noticed he only had three legs. I called to him, but he was skittish. I unwrapped my sub and tossed one of the meatballs in his direction. He jumped but realized it was food. He gobbled it fast, so I tossed him another. This time he grabbed the meatball and took off running.
7:30 pm. WEEKLY LOOK-BACK
I probably should have paid attention to that fire.
I should have at least made note of it here in my journal.
But I was distracted.
Finally out of New Hope. Finally out of community college. Finally pursuing my degree, my career, my life.
Oh, and I wrote earlier that there were no massive power outages. That’s true, but apparently, the campus power went out on New Year’s at midnight. My apartment was OK. Just a flicker. Might be related to the fire. Maybe not.
What else was I doing the past few days?
Getting my apartment in order the night before the fire, watching the new millennium roll in, spending ALL day Saturday and Sunday organizing my apartment, and this evening prepping for my two-week J-Term class starting tomorrow.
I didn’t actually see the fire. I only heard about it on the radio Saturday afternoon. It was tragic—a guy died. But the fire had no impact on me. Even though it happened here on campus, it just didn’t affect me, and I dismissed it.
Nevertheless, I should have paid attention to the fire. I am a journalist after all.
Be better this week.
Press on.
Ph.3:14
Journals of Colin Brock
