You're probably wondering what's up...well, I'm not telling. :P

OK, fine...not much is up other than I just spent a ton of money to hold this apartment, which I'm excited about...but there's part of me that's wistful too, as there always is when a major life change is happening. If I get this place, there will be a new me. There will have to be, regardless of desire, comfort, etc. I should know about my credit this evening, when Butch goes to turn in my app. and money as well as his. I'm a little nervous, but we'll see. Then, the landlord has to approve us too. We'll see how that goes.

Ah, September 11. Maybe I can blame my down-ness today on that. Maybe subconsciously I'm feeling down because of that. But I'm not going to fool myself into thinking I'm that compassionate. I, like most Americans, have moved on, past Sept. 11, since I wasn't directly affected by it. It's sad, yes, but it's a cold reality of living where we do I guess.

Sept. 11 was the scariest day of my life (so far). I woke up just after 9 a.m., and did not turn on the TV or radio for the first time in weeks (usually I check the Weather Channel before going to work) because I was running late. I let the dogs out, and as I was coming back in the house when the phone started ringing. Usually I don't answer the phone in the morning, particularly if I'm running late, but I figured I would. It was my roommate, at work. (These quotes are close to what was said.)
He said, "Are you seeing this?"
I said, "What?"
"Do you have your TV on?"
"No."
"You should turn it on."
"I'm running late, I can't turn the TV on. What's going on?"
"They just flew two planes into the Twin Towers in New York and the Pentagon in Washington."
"What? You're kidding me (not fully realizing even what he'd just said, and reaching to turn on the TV.)"
Me, again, seeing the smoking Twin Towers: "What the FUCK?!"
My roommate: "Yeah, well, we're not really working around here..."
"I'm gonna go...I'm speechless. I gotta get to work somehow anyway. I'll talk to ya later, OK?"
"OK."

I sat there for about 10 minutes getting an idea of what was going on, sorta, then got in the car and listened to the radio all the way to work. When the first tower collapsed (I think right after I turned the TV on), I still hadn't fully grasped what was going on, so it didn't hit me. But listening to whoever it was on the radio (the national broadcaster, whose name escapes me right now) just go dead silent after saying, somberly, "Oh my God...the second tower is collapsing now...Oh my God..." and thinking of all the people, I was so close to crying in the car on the highway at that moment. I managed to keep my composure and made it to work, where there was no work done. We all left work very early, trickled out here and there when we got tired of watching the events unfold on our TVs here.

I went home and was so shaken up. I walked down to the gas station, where prices were only slightly higher, but the lines of cars were soooooo long, because of the gas panic--remember that that afternoon/evening? I went there to pick up the special afternoon editions of the Sun-Times and Tribune, which I still have. I called Donna and she came over and we exchanged stories and tried to ease each others' fears. I talked to friends and family and exchanged stories there too and tried to ease fears that way too. I was so scared. So, so scared that day and most of the next. And the reason I was so scared was I didn't know what I was scared of. Throughout the day, I feared hearing that Chicago had been hit, because, in a weird way, it's a part of me. I think I would have lost it if Chicago in any way had been hit. It would have been too much.

However, the journalist in me always wondered...and wondered...and wondered. It sickened me, but there were times when I wish I were there observing and covering it--experiencing it and bringing it to people instead of having it brought to me. That's where the helplessness comes in. But that helplessness, I guess, served a purpose in the short term, in that so many people wanted to do SOMETHING to help, because the media brought it to them up close and personal, that so many people did so much to help--money, blood, donations, etc. Yeah, that's all gone now, but at least it helped me feel good about my profession for a time...helped me feel good about the blood-and-guts B.S. that broadcast "journalism" always puts out. Had people not seen the suffering, maybe they would have felt more distanced from it than they were. I don't know...

Anyway, I'm feeling down today...but everyone feels down every now and then...those voices in my head have just gotten the better of me today... :)

I have softball at 6, so maybe that will cheer me up. We shall see.