I don't think I can ever return to normal.

I keep thinking about the people running away from the world trade center, the body bags on the ground by the pentagon and normal seems like a really bad choice of words. It doesn't help that as I've been catching up on my email and watching TV and talking with friends that everyone has been talking about the people involved and what happened. There's the two best friends who took separate flights on American and United and both died. One of them had a young gorgeous blue-eyed daughter. There's the man who survived and whose brother did not. And a multitude of stories like that. I just want to rend my clothes, tear out my hair, and cry.

I can't imagine the pain of the families and friends of the 5000+ people who remain missing. Actually, I guess I can get a glimmer; I keep thinking: what if it had been Dad?

After viewing that bigger picture, I think it's impossible not to view it in terms of how it affects one's self. And then I just feel kind of rotten about that, too.

I worry about Mike and his brothers getting drafted. Then I worry about stupid things. We're flying to Las Vegas in a few weeks on Southwest. Can I bring a razor to shave my legs or will I have to buy one somewhere there? How will I feel to fly so close on the heels of this? I used to be fascinated with flying especially with my dad's occupation. I grew up loving to fly. Will being afraid be normal from now on? Will being afraid be unAmerican?

After I came to grips with surviving the abuse I suffered in my early 20's, I realized I will never feel normal again. This feels like that, only much much bigger and soul crushing.

I'm not sleeping much. I think it's appropriate and normal to experience insomnia to this, so it doesn't worry me much, yet.

I felt so sad on Friday, I spent money I shouldn't have and made a wreath. Then I started making angel pins. I have some cool ribbon with angels and flags on it from a few years ago and I bought some lace. Those things help.

Saturday, I cleaned the yard. I had friends over and celebrated my birthday.

I'm doing normal things. I think what's more true than anything is that what I perceived as normal before will never have the same sense of normalcy to it. What is normal is to have the reactions I am having, bewildering though they may be. I will keep doing normal things, like my laundry, my bills, my walking, and playing monopoly with Russell and for now, every so often, crying over some odd thing that reminds me of the 5000+ missing people at the World Trade Center.