Something odd I've noticed:

When the attacks of Sept. 11, 2001 happened, I was in the middle of teaching probability to my Biostatistics class. In fact, in the days after the attacks, it was teaching probability that was the most difficult for me - I would sit in my office and think "why the HELL am I teaching about permutations using stupid examples of animals standing around a pond (I use Zar and that's his example) when the whole world is falling apart and we will all very likely be dead in a few weeks?" And I remember thinking about how I should be teaching my students basic first aid, how to build simple shelters, and what local plants were edible. (I seriously believed for a few days at least, that we were all going to have to take to the woods and live there).

Now, two years later (almost) I'm trying to rewrite my probability notes...emphasis on the trying to.

my brain is resisting it. I find it very hard to make myself do this.

I wonder how much of it is tied up with the emotions and fears that were going on two years ago. (for the record, last year I just bombed through the notes I had without really pausing to think if combinatorials and permuations are that important for the way I teach the class. They aren't, but some discussion of probability is, hence the rewrite).

The strange thing is, I really wasn't that greatly affected by the attacks - I only knew one person (and barely knew him at that; he was a year behind me at my high school) who died in the attacks; I live far away from Washington and New York in what is commonly known as "flyover" country; I don't even have any relatives fighting in the current "war on terror."

and yet, I stare at my biostats book, and I can feel my pulse going up, and my breath rate becoming less stable. Psychology is a weird thing and stress after an event can hit you in weird ways.