A Sense of History

I honestly didn't realize it was 9/11 until about 30 seconds ago.  Well, really realize it, anyway.
Sometimes I worry myself that I don't have a sense of history; that I'm buying into the mentality that, well, life goes on, and there isn't anything anyone can do about it.

But you see, those things are true.  Life does go on.  There isn't anything we can do about that.  It's a fact of life that it will continue regardless, isn't it?

So, we're supposed to be mourning, I guess?  I think I'm done mourning.  I cried my little eyes out that day, ten years ago, in the sixth grade, when it happened.  I can't believe they let us watch that on the television during school.  And then my mother came to pick me up, because before that happened, I was feeling ill and told my teacher I needed to go home.

Maybe I felt ill because I innately knew something was terribly, horribly wrong?  Hindsight is twenty-twenty, or even better vision, because you can see the significance of the minutest details if you look back meticulously.

So I am remembering, after all.  It didn't take much, and there isn't much to remember from a sixth grader's perspective, but I'm doing it anyway.

I'm not very good at mourning.  At focusing on awful things that happened years ago.  Because I prefer to think of happier things.  In recent years, I've looked more to the future than to the past.  Looking to the future can make you paranoid.

Looking to the past can make you depressed.  But so can looking at the present, depending on your perspective.

For the moment, all I know is I have loads of homework, and not enough time in which to do it--not to mention compiling a budget request for the club I'm president of this year, sending in an evaluation of my recent Socials event, and writing a review of a local museum exhibit.  So I "shouldn't" even be writing this post.

I keep getting distracted from everything, and definitely from writing this.  I'm kind of at work right now.  It's just answering phones--but someone's got to do it.  And I just had a fifteen-minute conversation with a man who's trying to meet up with a friend, who is in class right now (???), for lunch, but she doesn't have a cell phone.  So I guess he's just going to creep on her with the information I gave him?  I hope I'm not being an enabler, or anything.  I only gave him general University information...

Anyway.

Christine out.