September 10, 2002 | 10:35 AM

I�m feeling sort of paranoid right now. Like people are mad at me and I�m not sure why.

I�m feeling off balance. The office is in a bit of an uproar because of the lay off announcements. This is still nothing compared with what The Stupid Company was like. And my position is well funded. And everyone likes me and is going to bat for me. And fuck it you know�whatever happens is going to happen. If I get laid off I get laid off. If I become homeless I become homeless. Maybe I�ll take off for Tibet and become a monk. Maybe I�ll toss everything away, change my name, and move to Miami and become a junky. Who the fuck knows? I can�t do anything about it. All I can do is get all my work done. I am also making a copious list of everything I get done today, broken up by half hour increments. (Not of course including this diary entry. hah hah)

But today I feel really freaked out. I get into this space where I feel like everyone I know doesn�t like me anymore, that I�m not worthy of being liked, blah blah blah. It�s so tired and boring so I won�t get into it.

And then of course tomorrow is September 11th.

And I haven�t yet written anything about September 11th here. I feel like I don�t have a right to because I wasn�t there and I didn�t lose anyone close to me. I know people who lost people, but I wasn�t in that position so I feel like my continuing horror just isn�t that relevant. Other people ahve much more important things to say on the subject.

I remember exactly what was happening last year. Hallie was crashing on our couch and everything had been going really bad between John and I. And then September 11th happened.

I remember being at the fax machine at work when I heard about it. I remember the disorientation and shock and trying desperately to get through to everyone I knew in New York.

I remember bursting into tears at my desk and leaving early. I remember the bus ride home was crowded with displaced human beings in total shock, everyone mumbling in hushed voices and several people with tears streaming down their face.

I remember feeling blown apart and bracing myself for some kind of horrible loss. I remember the sick somersault feeling in my stomach every time I thought about the planes. And the people. And the people left behind.

And all I just wanted was to see John. I wanted to see his face. I wanted to hold him and be with him. And tell him that I loved him.

And I wanted my family and friends wrapped around me like a familiar quilt.

And I remember the news being on 24 hours a day. And someone always crying in our house. And not feeling safe anymore. And not being able to sleep. And loving everyone and hating everyone else.

I remember that.

I think I have to stop writing this entry now.