Near bed time this evening I was scrolling through my news feed and glanced at all the September 11th, 2001 thoughts, comments, stories and tributes.
Oh right. It’s September 11th.
It’s not that I’ve forgotten. I did my post my obligatory “learn the truth” status update this morning. You could start here for some help on that. But after that I was allowed no more time to think about it.
I have my own crisis. 24/7
Frankly, if it wasn’t for twitter I’d have no clue about Net Neutrality, ISIS, or Ferguson.
Things are getting tough here.
It’s time for this ‘Never ever going to fucking medicate my son’ mom to look at medication. It’s time to start all the legal bull shit to gain guardianship of my own child who is about to turn 18.
It was really, just another day.
Where was I on 9/11/01?
Sleeping. I worked a midnight shift the night before and slept through the whole damn thing. That’s my 9/11 “where were you?” story.
My 9/11/2014 started with a party with the fire department, for what it’s worth. I smelled smoke in the house.
I told the dispatcher to PLEASE PLEASE have them cut the sirens as far out as they could… but my son still heard them. FD got here to find me pinning my son –all 6’1″ and 175 pounds of him, to the wall so that he wouldn’t attack any of them. Sirens. They hurt his ears and send him into a violent rage.
That is my life.
I go from one personal crisis to another, unaffected by the outside world.
It was just another day.