This morning, my train-line shut down for the second time in a month because someone threw themselves onto the tracks. I guess this time of year leads to a lot of suicides. Last year, a friend of mine's upstairs neighbor collected all of the dried Christmas trees that people had put on the curb in his apartment and set them ablaze, killing himself.

So, shuffled onto the platform with the entire populations of 5 trains, I found 4 classmates and we set off on a cross-suburban hiking adventure. Between the misty rain and the sound barriers that separate the highways from the Privet Drive-like neighborhoods and the housing projects built in the '70s, I started contemplating suicide myself. Not doing it, just the concept. I have never had truly suicidal thoughts (apart from the Huck Finn fantasies of who would show up weeping to my funeral.) There has been a great deal of suicide in my family, all before I was born, so hopefully I escaped that pattern.

But lately, I have to admit, I have been a bit depressed. Today's ordeal launched me back into the underwhelming reality of daily life and I began to identify with the track jumper. But in the end, I am always able to manage. I think basically I am an optimist, who keeps herself out of touch just enough not to stay down too long. I decided after today's fateful walk, that I need to let worries roll off my back a little easier. The anxiety will always be there if I look for it. I guess one of my projects during this lifetime is to learn how to break free from these limitations. But first...a nap. Damned jet-lag. It's kicking my ass.