I am not Job, even though sometimes I think I am. My father may be, though. In the last few weeks he's had to deal with his mother in her last days, one infertile, seemingly unemployable daughter, and another who is now separated. My poor sister had a great birthday. The night before her big day, her husband either left or she asked him to leave. I don't know the whole story, just that it sucks. The seemingly perfect family. I wasn't jealous of her, but sometimes had a "why can't I have a little of that, too?" attitude. They have the 2 beautiful kids, the lovely house, the nice vehicles, plenty of money, you get my drift. It just makes me remember how precarious everything is, and that nothing's perfect. Not that I thought it would ever be, for any of us, but every day something else happens that drives it closer to home. My poor dad is a worrywart, too. He gets it from my grandmother. I think it gets a little less intense with each generation. Besides, it apparently didn't take that big a toll on my grandmother, since she lived to 94. I did tell my parents that I thought they could use a vacation, though.