My Story

This is Thursday at about 4:30am. I have been sleeping on and off since about 5:00pm on Tuesday. I had finally gotten home on Tuesday - dazed and shock-y. After calling everyone I could think of to let them know that I was OK and after getting a real time update from Marc on details that I was unaware of, I could finally shower off the gritty debris and pieces of ‘stuff’ that were clinging to me. I fell into this cycle of dreaming the horror and waking to it on CNN. I think I have exhausted my need to escape/recover and now feel ready to go out and be of some use; I think I will call 800-HelpNow - the Red Cross volunteer line.

I want to think out my story for the catharsis of it. I have told bits and pieces to everyone, but I want to see what the whole looks like. I think this will help me be in the receptive/listening mode for whatever counselor duties I may be assigned.

I was in the midst of a leadership development assignment at Goldman. Tuesday was a fully scheduled day that was to begin with a first appointment at 9:30. I left home early as usual - around 7:30, both because of obsessional urges around timeliness and because I had fallen into the habit of exploring lower Manhattan a bit each assignment day. I went by the museum of the American Indian at Bowling Green where I got coffee from a vendor and walked around admiring the wonderful structure and the exterior sculptures. I went into Battery Park to find a spot to bask in the glorious, sun-shiny morning and to take a peek at my cryptic crossword puzzle which I intended to save for my lunch hour break, but which was calling to me. Fearing that I would get over-absorbed, I left my moment of time-out-of time and got back into the workforce flow (funny, I have been feeling like a member of the workforce lately as against a singleton working in the ‘cracks’ as I did for so much of my working life). I circled around by the Staten Island