Michelle Williams' 9/15/2001

received 9/16/2001

I felt normal for exactly five minutes today, and it's already gone.

This morning I woke up with bruises and soreness unparalleled by any workout scheme I've ever tried. My right bicep, which has been supporting most of the buckets of water the last couple of nights, is basically useless. And I woke up knowing that I had to go back to work tonight, despite all of my efforts to go back to my men. My weird feeling continues, and thankfully those at work did not, in the least. expect forever-chipper Michelle to return. But... I don't quite know how to put this- I am not ready for normalcy. I do not crave it and frankly I don't want to be around it. Everyone is talking about how we must take steps back to our "normal" lives and I will not do it. I think I may be going a little overboard, emotionally. Tonight one of my managers at USC said something really funny and I laughed out loud for the first time in five days and immediately clamped my hand over my mouth. It seemed so inappropriate. Which it wasn't. I just need to figure this out, my own way.

Thankfully I was KBW tonight, which is the "kitchen back-waiter", which meant that all I did was cut bread and run food. I talked to almost no one, which was for the best, considering these were the things people were saying:

"I heard you guys were closed on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday! Are you always closed those days? I was afraid we wouldn't get in here to eat!"

"This salad is too bitter!" "can I make you a salad with no raddichio? It will be less bitter" "No. When I get a bitter salad in a restaurant I just throw it away."

and my favorite:

"How come you guys are so slow tonight?"

To which I would have liked to answer, "Well, sir, there's less people alive tonight. Oh, and a few trying to find their bodies."

Good thing I wasn't on the floor.

It was probably good for me to be away for a day or two, just to gain some perspective on the situation and rest up emotionally and physically before heading down there again. The things I've been hearing are so haunting... the number of pets trapped in apartments below Canal Street, the number of cars in commuter lots that no one has come to claim. But then there are the beautiful things- the memorial at Union Square Park, where there are people in throngs every hour of the day, sitting together and holding hands and singing, the nightly candlelight vigils, the makeshift benefit concert being planned at Washington Square Park- and even more importantly, the crystal-clear love and support from my family and my friends at work. These are all good, good things.

But I cannot stay at my job. I can no longer refer to it as the "service industry" without my stomach turning. I don't ever, ever, ever want to do this again. I cannot say that I've enjoyed the last few days but I've never felt more *useful* in my entire life. And as I've thought about my career change (hmmm... can't join the Salvation Army, I'd have to pretend I was a Christian... hmmm... what do crisis workers do when there is no crisis... hmmm... getting kicked out of my apartment in two weeks... hmmm.... poor... hmmm) I can't come up with any clear solutions. But again, with time, I'll figure it out.

Last night, in my dream, I woke to my own bedroom, exactly as it had been when I fell asleep (a disaster zone in its own right) except it was filled with sleepy firemen. They were in full uniform, covered in the gray dust, their faces and hands filthy with muck, but they were okay, and just sleepy. They sat on all sides of my bed, surrounding me, and also on the floor, and leaning near the door, just filling my room. I have a tiny room. And they were all just murmuring, and resting against each other, and they were mine, and they were safe. My room was warm from the heat of them. And, comforted, I rolled over and turned to another dream.

Tomorrow I take to the streets with my camera to capture all I can of what has been going on in this city. I have to go to work again tomorrow so I can't return to Ground Zero... at least, not officially. I'll get as far as I can.

Love to all of you,

M.