So just to throw it out there at the start, and to give you an idea of what I'm talking about, today is my Birthday. September 12th.

Looking back on my earlier years, birthdays were more magical, and you got excited for what might happen on this special day. I think this might be the year I'm over birthdays. Trying to get a friend or two together to hang out today has been a nightmare. Drama and bullshit all around.

So going back, to high school, the day before my birthday on 2001.

I'm waiting for class to start, and my buddy goes to get a drink from a vending machine as class is starting,

Class starts up, and he's taking his sweet time, but when he comes back into class he does not have a drink in his hands.

Instead, he informs the teacher that we are all supposed to gather in a teacher's room, because a plane has hit the world trade center.

So there I am, going to go watch what surely is an accident, and the news coverage of the accident.

Instead I'm there for all of it.

The second plane.

The jumpers.

The collapses.

I'm reminded of my Grandmother Rosemarie. Her mother died on her 8th(?) birthday. Devastated she never celebrated another for the rest of her life.

I feel kinda like that. I've observed, but never really celebrated one since.

So, yeah, today is September 12th 2020.

Observed.