2002-01-09 - 9:11 p.m.
Hi. It's Wednesday. The end of Wednesday and there are actually two quotes of the day and neither of them have anything to do with Burger King or the fabulous products they offer. Including but not limited to the Onion Ring Dipping Sauce that I'm telling you. You must try.
Seriously.
Anyway. Quotes of the day. That really seem to quite sum up things:
Damn. You're good. ~ Project Manager at Generic HMO.
Day three and I got my first, Damn. You're good. In relation to. I forget. A new, little project I was handed.
I'm not writing this well. I'm tired. I'm way tired. There has been so much change recently and I'm just tired. I'm coming home and going to bed asap. It's almost pitiful. It's barely human. It's what I'm doing. It leads me right to the second quote of the day:
WOW! You really have Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.
That one was courtesy of The Therapist. Certified professional. Commenting on my need to constantly look for exits in buildings these days. The thought that went through my head while I was unpacking boxes last weekend, that... "what if I have to get out of here quickly? How am I going to get out with my things?"
To which of course she responded.
WOW! You really have Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.
That's a direct quote. Validation can be a beautiful thing. But sometimes it's just exhausting.
Nightmares still. They come less often. They're not as intense. They're mostly about finding various exits out of the WTC.
And if Riot718 imagines that they will build the mall back someday. Then. I don't know. I just have two crystal clear memories. That in the back of my mind, still exist someplace in New York still.
In my mind. In my mind you can still sit outside of the Borders at the WTC where the hot dog vendor sets up. You can still order a dog with relish and mustard and a seltzer. You can still sit on the stone benches with the other office workers in your corporate gear. And you can still watch the traffic go by and the digital clock above Century 21 spin your lunch hour away.
In my mind people are still sitting outside the WTC eating hot dogs and letting lunch hours spin away.
In my mind people are grabbing lunches at the Stagedoor Deli across the street and the counter guys are yelling out orders. They still know their regulars' orders.
In my mind on Tuesdays and Thursdays the Greenmarket sets up outside the WTC and the Amish kid from the Amish market is selling his cheese and talking on his cell phones. Those guys are set up with their boxes on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays selling umbrellas and travel planners. The security guard is nodding and saying, "hello".
And at 5 p.m. In my mind. There's a crowd. And there's a guy. There's one guy. Because there's always one guy. Running to catch his bus. Stretching his legs out beautifully. Shiny shoes and a tie flapping in the wind. There are those white lights in the little park across the street and he's running through the crowd. And the tie is flying and the crowds are moving and he's moving through the white lights and. He's running to catch his bus.
Away from the building.
In my mind. It's all about. Away from the building. Going away from the building.
I have brief glimpses. From time to time. And especially in the new cube which is of course. The same color as the cube that I sat in the WTC. Of inside the building. Sitting in my boss' office watching ferries go around the Statue of Liberty. The smell of the copy machines. The board room. The light of the setting sun at 4:30 p.m.
Wow. You really have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
My express bus no longer runs. I can't stop thinking that. My express bus no longer runs.
I'm so tired of this. I get SO TIRED of thinking this. So TIRED of feeling this. I just want to lay it down. I feel like I'm over-reacting. Over-dramatizing. It bothers the hell out of me. I keep thinking I should be over this by now. Aren't other people over this by now? Haven't we moved on as a country as a nation as a people of one? Haven't we decided to do something else by now?
I WASN'T EVEN THERE.
I keep saying that. I wasn't even there. My therapist keeps saying, "but you *were* there." And I have no idea what that means.
I think sometimes she's being dramatic too. I think we're all being dramatic. I think I'm so tired of thinking about this stuff that I could just f*cking scream.
I could just. Scream.
And in my mind. In my mind only. People are still letting their lunch hours slip away by eating hot dogs outside.
