I just spent 30 minutes writing a post about my reflections of 2002.

But then, sitting back and proof reading what I now determined to be pathetic drivel ... I am reminded about the old adage, "If you cannot say something nice [about someone], do not say anything at all."

So, 2002 ... I will simply say that I am glad to see you go.

While I learned a great deal about my own weakness and fragility during your 12 months of Hell ...

... I had learned that you are only a year. You are 12 months. You are 365 days. You are 8760 hours.

You too, shall pass. And in a few days, your claim on my life will be over.

You threw many obstacles, hurdles and curves into my life's path but guess what?

I AM STILL HERE!

Nanner, nanner, nanner. 2002, you are leaving! Gone. Poof. Adios. Ciao baby.

Welcome 2003! Indeed.

I have not said much about the horror of 9/11 or its subsequent events.

Yes, I have opinions. I have criticisms. I have anger. I have fear.

But with each day, I become once again lulled into the passive acceptance that, as an American, I am "safe" ... and war (and its effects) are ...*pointing hands to some non-descript destination*... over there.

However, today I experienced just one of the long term effects of Bin Laden's reign of terror on "capitalistic infidels" ... Americans.

I went commercial insurance shopping.

Yep, I let my fingers do the walking.

I was looking for the best rate on commercial liability insurance. A $5 million dollar aggregate liability policy. Just one of the many hassles of doing business.

While learning where to find competitive rates, I was totally overwhelmed by the education I received from a commercial insurance broker.

Did you know that since 9/11, ALL insurance carriers (commercial and personal) have raised their rates?

Yes.

And did you know that the 400+ businesses that were located in or directly associated with the World Trade Center have filed property or business loss claims in excess of $90 billion?

Did you know that there are $2.2 trillion in worker's compensation/death benefits that will be paid out over the next 20 years?

Since the U.S. government declared that the acts of terror on 9/11 were not actually "acts of war" but instead the result of one man's insanity ... insurance coverage was accepted. Rightly so.

Which means that insurance companies are paying out millions and millions of dollars.

Which means that insurance companies need to recoup these losses.

Which means that insurance companies will raise their rates.

Our premiums. Every American who has insurance on anything will be affected.

Every American who does business, buys anything, sells anything ... everyone will be affected. Why? Because the grocery store on the corner, the shoe store in the mall, the manufacturer of baby clothes ... every source of goods and services that buys insurance ...

... will have a rate increase. And the vendors they buy from will have a rate increase. And so on, and so on.

A snowball effect of insurance rate increases.

And ultimately, these rate increases are passed down to the consumer.

Yes, I have become lulled into the passive acceptance that I am safe.

But as I watch the economy falter and fail ... as I see more and more people economically affected long term by the efforts of Bin Laden ...

... I begin to wonder if I need to rethink my definition of safe.

There's no place like home. *click, click* There's no place like home.

Yes, there really is no place like home.

I miss my home so much that I ache inside. The ache becomes so profound in the wee hours after midnight that tears spill down my cheeks and I struggle not to sob.

Silly, eh?

Perhaps I am just selfish. I have so much. I am so very blessed.

But as I lay here ... six months bedridden ... paralyzed by pain and injury ... all I want is to go home.

I left my home on August 4th via emergency ambulance and have not been back since.

I have not felt the contours of my mattress that caresses my body in a cradle of comfort. Or run my legs across the smooth cotton of my own sheets.

I miss the scent. My scent. My home. My territory.

I miss my food from my refrigerator. I miss my sound system. I miss my desktop PC.

Mom's home is her home. I am a guest.

She will do anything and everything in her power to make me comfortable in her home.

Yes, I am blessed.

Yes, I am selfish.

Because more than anything, I wish I had a pair of 9N red sparkly slippers that could take me on a whirlwind ride through the plains of Kansas, down the yellow brick road, across the technicolor skies of Oz ...

... and into my home.

Why?

Because there's no place like home.

Ugh. Exactly one month ago today, I celebrated my mid-40's birthday.

And now, I cannot help but remember the prophetic words of my former accountant, John.

"Just wait until you're in your 40's. Things will change dramatically."

John was referring to the phenomena that I now call "mid-life body breakdown".

I scoffed at John's remark (said to me when I was 38 ... a young whippersnapper) and dismissed it.

I had perfect vision (actually 10/10), shiny healthy golden hair, skin that seldom betrayed me with a blemish, and muscles that ached only when I challenged them with four hours of tennis or a 7 mile run.

John? Damn you, man! ;-)

In the last six months, seeing clearly to read (especially in the evening when my eyes are tired) has become a chore. So ...

... now I am the proud owner of those drugstore reading glasses. Yup, they work. I can see to read.

[By the way, do YOU wear the drugstore reading glasses? If so, and you want really great, trendy, stylish yet inexpensive frames ... I suggest Debby Burk Optical. I bought two pair on sale and they are exactly as they appear and the quality is exceptional.]

My golden hair is slowly being naturally highlited by streaks of silver.

My skin cannot decide if it is dry or oily.

And muscle aches? Now the norm is to wake sore and achey somewhere on this aging body.

Yes, John ... time marches on.

But for goodness sake, does it have to march ON my body?!