the first september 11th
Sep. 9th, 2003 02:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
threeplusfireI remember that it was a Tuesday, because for the first time in my life I had a class schedule where I didn't need to be at school five days a week, and so on Tuesdays and Thursdays I could sleep in and do whatever the hell I wanted. That time was precious to me, living with roommates for the first time also.
A plan just flew overhead. I think our apartment is underneath one of the approach paths for Austin Bergstrom, though we don't usually hear them pass us by.
What I remember is waking up very early for no good reason at all, and staying in bed until the constantly ringing phone drove me out of my room in a temper. My computer was fried, and I couldn't get online, but we had cable television. I turned on CNN just in time to see a building crumbling down.
I spent almost the entire day naked on the coffee table, holding my bedspread around me while I watched every news channel I could get. Most of the time I was alone. The maintenance guy came by to vacuum out the inside of the AC closet because there had been a water leak, and I turned the volume all the way up so we could hear Dan Rather over the machine. The roommate I was fast growing to dislike stopped by for an hour with her exboyfriend, and they invited me to go out for lunch. I said no, and put on some jeans. It wasn't until the sun was going down that I could bring myself to leave the house, to walk away from the television. I think I was afraid there would be more.
While I was driving on Mopac, all the radios stopped and they put the president on the air to speak, and Congress singing God Bless America. I went to Metro, because I didn't know where else to go, and it has always been a refuge for many moments. There was some sort of service on the Main Mall that night, and I remember being struck by the quiet of several thousand students. The university is only so quiet in summer when no one is there.
Why have I been thinking about all this? Why did I ever take it so hard in the first place? Autumn is traditionally the time of year when I become unwell, as they say. In 2001, I was losing my grip on reality fairly steadily. What I remember of that semester is the madness, the inability to think or feel, or cope. I failed a class that semester, and for the first time since high school I was at a complete loss. I went through a lot of razor blades that season. A lot of that feeling is caught up in my memories of September 11th.
It was such a sunny day.
A plan just flew overhead. I think our apartment is underneath one of the approach paths for Austin Bergstrom, though we don't usually hear them pass us by.
What I remember is waking up very early for no good reason at all, and staying in bed until the constantly ringing phone drove me out of my room in a temper. My computer was fried, and I couldn't get online, but we had cable television. I turned on CNN just in time to see a building crumbling down.
I spent almost the entire day naked on the coffee table, holding my bedspread around me while I watched every news channel I could get. Most of the time I was alone. The maintenance guy came by to vacuum out the inside of the AC closet because there had been a water leak, and I turned the volume all the way up so we could hear Dan Rather over the machine. The roommate I was fast growing to dislike stopped by for an hour with her exboyfriend, and they invited me to go out for lunch. I said no, and put on some jeans. It wasn't until the sun was going down that I could bring myself to leave the house, to walk away from the television. I think I was afraid there would be more.
While I was driving on Mopac, all the radios stopped and they put the president on the air to speak, and Congress singing God Bless America. I went to Metro, because I didn't know where else to go, and it has always been a refuge for many moments. There was some sort of service on the Main Mall that night, and I remember being struck by the quiet of several thousand students. The university is only so quiet in summer when no one is there.
Why have I been thinking about all this? Why did I ever take it so hard in the first place? Autumn is traditionally the time of year when I become unwell, as they say. In 2001, I was losing my grip on reality fairly steadily. What I remember of that semester is the madness, the inability to think or feel, or cope. I failed a class that semester, and for the first time since high school I was at a complete loss. I went through a lot of razor blades that season. A lot of that feeling is caught up in my memories of September 11th.
It was such a sunny day.