When I woke up this morning and showered and walked to work and sat at my desk and turned on my computer, it was just the eleventh. Then I started reading my feed and was reminded that today's the eleventh of September.
I leaned back in my chair for a moment and thought about what happened so many years ago. I leaned forward in my chair, read another post and realized that to me, today's just the eleventh. There's no difference between today and yesterday except the shadows are a little longer when I walk to my apartment after work.
I'm not sure when that happened. So, I wondered, has November 22nd ever been just the twenty-second for people born in the US in 1955 or earlier? Did it just sort of happen? Does it ever just not matter?
And, in my twisted way, what makes me feel guilty is how I don't feel guilty for thinking today was like any other piece-of-shit workday.
Anyone else feel like this?
3 comments:
Me. I didn't realize it was anything other than the 11th until this afternoon. Oops, my bad. Or not.
It's just the 11th for me too, but then I'm just Canadjun, eh?
How long do you have to keep commemorating these things? How long do you have to not move on?
The Mooooooo -- Yeah, I don't know.
Jazz -- See, that's what I'm wondering. I had an aunt who, a few months after, got a US flag shaped like a heart with the words "Always Remember 9-11-01" tattooed on her back, and I wonder, did she realize what day yesterday was?
Post a Comment