I Was Lucky To Be Lazy On 9/11

By day I was a copy editing drone at a publishing company in Garden City, but I moonlighted as an About.com guide covering New York City's travel and tourism trade. It took me to Manhattan a few times a week. Since the Long Island Rail Road station was behind my office, I planned to take the train, attend the conference, grab a quick bite at Windows on the World, and get back in time to put in a couple of hours at the office.

Fortunately, I had a penchant for occasionally slacking off, and a splitting headache from the night before. I was also recovering from a series of fire-filled and chaotic dreams, and had an odd feeling of dread—a sensation that normally makes an appearance during my occasional bouts of anxiety. So, that morning, I blew off New York City and headed to my Garden City office.

I did feel pangs of guilt. I had signed up for the WTC conference weeks before, and had told a bartender friend of mine at Windows that I’d stay and grab some lunch. My About.com assignments took me all over Manhattan, but I'd developed a fondness for the Financial District and Battery Park, often grabbing a quick lunch or happy hour at the WTC. Even with the over-priced grub and booze, it was one of my favorite places. I befriended some of the staff as I became increasingly dissatisfied with my day job and felt the need to flee Long Island.

My guilt took a back seat to laziness, though. I walked into my office, head pounding, wondering if I'd made the right decision. Half of me wanted to make a run for the train that was about to pull into the station.