Strike day 1 came and went. Some pictures of the group picketing the lot this morning are up on LAist, but our writers were on the afternoon shift, so none of my friends are pictured there.
However, this afternoon I found out another friend I used to work with got hit by a car and badly injured while she was riding her motorcycle yesterday. She’s going to live, but only because she was wearing her helmet.
She’s still in the ICU, and after a very long time in surgery yesterday, it looks like she’s going to be okay, or at least as okay as you can be after having one of your hands crushed into a million pieces and having your femur break so badly it breaks the skin, among her many, many injuries.
As much whining as I do about my stupid foot and all the horseshit it’s given me after I tripped on a stupid fucking rock, it’s nothing compared to the utter hell my friend is about to go through.
It also gives me perspective about my worries about unemployment: If I lose my job, I can get another one. My friend might never be able to get back a lot of what she lost yesterday.
Cross your fingers for her. She’s a good kid, and I wouldn’t wish the pain and frustration she’s about to go through on my worst enemy.