On this day in 2001, it was a clear, crisp, sunny morning in New York City. Students were in their second week of school. People were getting to work in cars, buses, and trains. Alessandra Fremura had planned on leaving for work at 8:00, but her babysitter was 20 minutes late. Virginia DiChiara couldn’t get her golden retrievers to come in from the backyard, so she decided to have another cup of coffee. Kenneth Merlo was supposed to go in the office, but he decided to spend the morning helping a friend hook up her computer instead of going to his office. Michael Lomonaco stopped in the lobby of the World Trade Center to order some reading glasses from the one-hour eyeglass store. Michael Jacobs was running late when he reached the Trade Center lobby. He rushed to make the elevator, but the doors slid shut in his face. A musician named Michelle Wiley was at home in her apartment. She sat down at her piano in her nightgown and shower shoes, and stared out her window at the Twin Towers before beginning to play.
This was in the Writer’s Almanac for today. I get the Writer’s Almanac every day in my email; it’s a nice thing to wake up to. I like how they broached the subject of today. Doesn’t say what happened, but we all know it. It literally goes without saying.
I had the weirdest, most vivid dream last night, and I must write it down before I forget it. In my dream, Crazy Governor Bush got this splendid idea to have every citizen in America carry these identification badges, called, oddly enough, muffins; he said it was for head-counting purposes in case of a terror attack. They were black with a yellow star on them. Yeah, like the star the Nazis had the Jews wear. I didn’t notice the connection ’till I woke up. Anyway, we were required to have these ‘muffins’ with us wherever we went. I thought it was a stupid idea, and so did my dad. He didn’t wear his at all, and so he was kicked off the beach, and also kicked out of an Auburn game. My sister and mom wore theirs, and I had mine, but I had cut it so it was smaller and put it in my back pocket. Wonder what that means. Maybe that dad is corageous, mom and my sister follow the rules, and I am a coward. I dunno. Anyway, the whole time I was thinking how stupid this is, and it doesn’t make the public feel any safer knowing that our president was worried so much about a terrorist attack that he’d be thinking about head-counts in the case of one. Besides, what if there not really for that at all, but for tracking purposes, like Big Brother. At about that point, the badges turned into real muffins, strawberry ones, and I thought again what an idiot this man is, to think that no one would be able to resist eating their muffin! They were warm and looked delicious. Then I woke up.
Now where the heck did all that come from? Wonder if it means anything? Maybe it does, or maybe it was just the Melatonin I took the night before, which promises sleep but has a side effects of vivid dreams. If it was the Melatonin, that is some good shit; give me some more. Interesting dreams interest me to no end. How interesting.