I’ve been wondering why, in the last few weeks, I seem to have lost my philosophy of it-is-what-it-is, and what-will-be-will-be. Usually, I’m a fairly patient person and have no problem waiting for something to happen, whether it is waiting for a story idea to come to me, waiting for a reply to a question, waiting for a red light to turn green . . . waiting, waiting, waiting. But lately, my brain is pacing back and forth with impatience, so much so I’ve found it hard to focus.
So after asking myself what’s going on, I decided it must have to do with the fact there’s a satellite plunging to Earth. According to statistics, there’s a 1-in-3200 chance a chunk of it will hit a human being. A 1-in-3200 chance? I’d say those are pretty good odds! I’ve entered writing contests with worse odds than that, yet still felt hopeful. And I’d consider a lottery ticket with those odds as pretty good. So, even though it was shoved way down in my subliminal black hole, that must be the reason for my odd behavior. I could be hit by a 200 lb. piece of space debris at any time.
Then, this morning, I read an article on Mashable.com, “Doomed Satellite Approaching Earth, But You Probably Needn’t Worry.” It stated:
The 1-in-3,200 probability has been interpreted by some as being ‘per person,’ rather than ‘per 7 billion people.’ That makes the chance of any one person having to worry about it to be less than 1 in 10 trillion,” Kessler told Space.com.
Ah, relief: less than 1 in 10 trillion. That’s much better. I can be patient again.
Now, if only I could focus . . .