dulcetly...notes on a bookish life

In the realm of the tragic and freaky, two of my library co-workers were on that Metra train derailment Saturday morning. My ILL partner-in-crime was apparently in the car with the two women who were killed, though she escaped with only a few stitches. I didn't hear about the whole thing until Sunday night, having went to a movie and to bed early Saturday night and then straight to work on Sunday. Only then did I remember she had sent out an e-mail saying she'd be in Saturday to make up for missing Friday and from my vantage at the circ desk, I hadn't remembered seeing her come in or leave. I spent a couple hours slightly freaking out and trying to find her cell phone number (inconveniently located in my desk drawer at work) until they released the victims names. After that, I at least figured she was okay, but knew instinctively she had to have been on that train--there aren't as many runs on weekends, and it happened about the time she'd be coming in. One of our cataloguers was also on the train and was pretty bruised up.