Long before “work from home” was considered legitimate, the morning of 9/11/2001, I decided that I would stay home to finish an article I was working on for my employer at the time. Purely a personal judgment call. I figured the finished product would get me out of the hot water of showing up late.
Just as got in the car to drive to the PATH station that would take me to the WTC, I heard about the first plane. All I could think was, “crap, how am I going to get into the office NOW?” Then, I heard about the second plane. I turned around and went back home.
One lucky impulse kept me out of harm’s way. My normal routine had me arriving at the WTC station between 8:45 and 9:00 AM every day.
I don’t know that there’s a point to this story—acknowledging dumb luck or good fortune, allowing for more of a balance between discipline and impulse, appreciating my freedom to continue down the many paths of the past 22 years, or simply being grateful regardless.
