Aftermath

I have talked about weekend hangovers before. Not the kind I used to get in college (and for that, my liver thanks me), but the ones where I look around the disaster that is my house and wonder "Whuck?!"

Mondays are not what you'd call my "productive" days.

Then there was this weekend. Holy Mother-of-all-craptacular-weekends. The house is the least of my concerns.

I'd like to say I'm doing fine. Trust me, about 50 people have asked in the last day or so. So many people have told me they rushed to their computer or phone after hearing the news because they knew I was there. I'd feel all warm and fuzzy and loved inside if I didn't still have the feeling like my stomach was closing in on itself.  But after rehashing it with so many people, talking about what happened is almost easier.

I said almost.

I still picture the rigging going down and still feel the knot in my stomach when I talk about it. I woke up at 4 a.m. because I was reliving it in my sleep. It's hard to play tough guy when your dreams say otherwise.

I teared up last night recounting the story for someone, because I mentioned how close we could have been, if only my friends had responded faster to the idea of surprising me. We would have gotten tickets earlier, and probably closer.

Talk about guardian angels.

I'm not sure what to do with my fears that have multiplied overnight.

Storms? Ya 1,000 times worse now.

Crowds? Dislike has mutated into fear.

Outdoor concerts? Yup, that's a new one.

The fear of storms is not new, but I will think twice before being outside for any length of time. I tried to check my phone and understand what weather was coming toward us, but I couldn't. I didn't have access to all the information that concert organizers did. I was excited and wanted to see the concert, so I pushed my nervousness aside. I thought it was just paranoia; that I was overreacting like normal. I trusted that someone was looking out for me and my fellow concert-goers.

Talk about reality check.

We weren't evacuated. People exited the grandstand in as orderly a manner as you could expect when we were all terrified. In an open area like that there were several ways to get out of the stands. But it was too late for everyone on the track. But I will pause before going to any inside venue with a large number of people. If I do go, you can be sure I will take stock of the exits immediately.

I love music. LOVE music. I want to be able to sit and enjoy a live concert, but I don't know how I'll be able to. And I can't picture listening to Sugarland without tears or feeling nauseous.

So much for happy birthday...