I was surprised to learn that my clinic had never done the Livelong AIDS walk before today. It seems like such a perfect fit. It's really a shame things got so messed up.

Part of the problem, I'm guessing, was the heavy rain. Instead of meeting in the designated meeting area, the 24 members of my team sought shelter under various tents and trees. Some of us would find other team members, and gather with them. Then some of us would leave to find other members, and when we'd bring them back, there would be different members there. We managed to get most of us together for a group photo before the walk.

But, while we were taking the group photo, the walk began. I'm not sure what happened, but the walk turned into a mob of thousands of people, instead of any sort of organized group movement. Our team got separated right from the start.

I ended up walking with two team members I knew, and one person that I wasn't sure who she was. When the walk passed by the QFC, I told my remaining team members that I was going on home from there.

The party that Phillip and I went to this afternoon - a housewarming for Heather, Audrey, and Levi, and Audrey's birthday - was much more enjoyable. The sun came out. It was a perfect-sized party - plenty of different conversations, and not too crowded. We made two new friends today, I think.

In the middle of the morning, my supervisor asked us at the front desk if we were all right with what happened to our coworker.

"No, I'm not," I immediately responded, "I'm upset about it."

"OK, then, let's talk about it," my supervisor invited. So, we talked.

I explained to her that I didn't think it was right to have a coworker suddenly vanish and be told nothing from management about what happened. (Officially, I don't know anything. Officially, I don't know why she was fired. Officially, I don't even know that she was fired. Unofficially, I know she was fired because I just happened to be there when she cleaned out her desk. Unofficially, I know why she was fired because my lead just happened to ride the bus home with her that day - my coworker told my lead, and asked my lead to tell me.) I told my supervisor that I'm curious about what happened, but I don't want to be told, because that wouldn't be fair - but at least we can be told that she was let go.

My supervisor told me about the restrictions enforced on her by Human Resources. She can't talk to us about the reasons behind the termination, of course, but she can't even tell us that my coworker had been terminated. The only thing she's allowed to do is send out a "cold email" (my supervisor's words) saying that of September 7, our worker is no longer working here. I immediately saw what a terrible no-win situation this is. On the one hand, it wouldn't be fair to a terminated employee to make public the reason for termination (which may or may not be a justified reason from the former employee's viewpoint). On the other hand, it's not fair to the rest of us to not make public the reason for termination (which denies any closure, and will likely lead to unfair gossip and speculation). I don't know what the solution is.

I explained to my supervisor that most of what I'm feeling is grief. This was a person I worked next to every day, talked with, got to know, and then suddenly, seemingly without warning, she's gone. "It's a loss," I concluded.

My supervisor told me that grief counselors are available, and that I'd be allowed time to use them any time I wished.

It was an extremely good and helpful talk. I have a good supervisor.

This evening was Lisa's yoga class. I will try very hard to avoid directly comparing Denise's Wednesday class and Lisa's Friday class for the next seven weeks. The two teachers have very different teaching styles. I did learn something this evening that I'd been curious about: The teachers at Seattle Yoga Arts do not follow the same, prescribed curriculum.

In Denise's class, the focus of the next seven weeks will be magnetism - finding our magnetic center, learning what holds us together, and draws energy into us.

The focus of Lisa's class for the next seven weeks will be cultivating the quiet within us.

This evening was the first evening of Denise's yoga class, and I really needed it. It's been a strange day.

It was a routine day, up until the very end. Early in the afternoon, my manager and my supervisor had a closed door meeting right behind the front desk. I didn't realize it was a closed door meeting at first, and I turned around to see what was going on behind me, and just as my manager was closing the door, she and I made eye contact. There was a look of grave seriousness that somehow told me that I was invading a privacy. I felt paranoid.

Then the afternoon went on, I went on about my job, I lost the paranoia, and I forgot about the meeting.

With less than a half hour to go before the clinic closed, my supervisor invited my coworker, the one who sits next to me every day, into a back room meeting. I didn't think too much about it.

Then, ten minutes before quitting time, my coworker returned to the front desk. She pulled her purse and backpack out of the drawer and slammed them on the counter. As she threw things into her backpack, she said to the triage nurse, "It's been nice knowing you. I've been canned."

The triage nurse and I exchanged looks. The triage nurse looked, for a moment, like he wasn't sure if he was supposed to laugh. But it soon became apparent, from the tears forming in my coworker's eyes, that it was no joke.

Then my coworker rushed out without another word.

My supervisor appeared and said to us left at the front desk, "Guys, ******'s no longer with us." "What - " I began, "No. Never mind. You mean she's not coming back?" "No, she's not," answered my supervisor.

I walked home feeling numb, alone, and vulnerable. The person I had worked next to, talked to, gotten to know, was gone suddenly, and I had no idea why. Nothing I had seen these past few months I've worked next to her had warned me that this was coming. Something had to have been going on - it couldn't have been as sudden as it seemed. What the hell happened? I stopped into Starbucks and bought a Frappacino on my way, but that's all I remember about the walk home.

As we were driving home from Pet's house yesterday, Phillip told me that he doesn't want to do a cache hide similar to "The Girls" for Gladden when he dies. Phillip explained that Gladden values his privacy too much for such a public memorial. I wholeheartedly agree with that.

"The Girls" got approved in an amazingly quick 35 minutes. It was approved by the same reviewer who approved "U.T." in an amazingly quick three hours.

In the process of hiding "The Girls," I was reminded several times of the differences between urban geocaching and rural geocaching. I don't think any of us bothered to check on the distance of the closest cache to "The Girls." I checked out of curiosity after the cache was approved. The closest cache to "The Girls" is 2.3 miles away.

Pet commented yesterday that she was glad that we're "finally" starting to hide more caches. We replied that our area is pretty well stocked with caches already - it's pretty tough to find a park in Seattle that hasn't been used as a cache hide at least once.

The container for "The Girls" is a large ammo can I picked up at Value Village one day - just in case we ever had the opportunity to hide a regular-sized cache. On the way down to Pet's, we stopped off at a 99-cent store and bought a large assortment of goodies to stock the cache with. Pet strongly advised us to cut back on the amount of swag. She told us to expect our cache to get maybe five or six finders a month (or did she say "year"?). Pet was surprised to learn that our puzzle cache had received four finders on its first day.

Here it is, over thirteen hours since "The Girls" was approved and listed, and it is still unfound.

I had my bag packed this morning when Phillip woke up and informed me that we were not staying overnight at Pet's - it was going to be a day trip only. Maybe he told me that yesterday, but I have no memory of it.

We hid our fifth cache today. It's going to be a joint venture between us and Pet. We're the official cache owners, and Pet will be maintaining it. The cache is named The Girls, and is placed to honor the memory of Gladys and Squeak. It's hidden close to where the girls are buried.

While I was writing this post, The Girls got approved and published.