I don’t know about you, but Sandy knocked me out. Our offices were closed yesterday and, instead of feeling like a day off, it was filled with worry. Worry about whether our windows were going to break after being pelted with insane wind gusts for hours. Worry about that water starting to pool on the window sills. Worry about our families and friends in the mid-Atlantic. Worry about our moms in Ptown and Tipper who trembles at the slightest noise. Worry about when they’d inevitably lose power. Worry about that reporter standing in the middle of the rising waters in Atlantic City. Worry about the crew of the HMS Bounty who had visited Ptown this past summer. Worry about my beloved summer beaches. Worry about that dangling crane. Worry about that huge flash of light that I saw out the window towards Charlestown. Worry about what the hell was going on in NYC.
The rains have stopped and the wind has died down here in Boston. The T is running again and many of us are headed back to work. The scenes on the news this morning have been scarring. I’m still worrying. Godspeed to those of you who are underwater, are without power, have weeks of cleanup ahead of you, or are still impacted by Sandy. And for the rest of us, perhaps we can have one day free from political vitriol, naval-gazing trivial complaints, and other me-me-me pursuits.