I guess my brain was too full of the tragedy yesterday: I wrote my entry, updated the calendar and index - and completely forgot to rename the actual entry so that it matched the links! I didn't even realize it until I opened FrontPage for tonight's entry.

Not too surprising really, when my heart and mind simply weren't in it. I went to bed at 11 p.m., exhausted from the stress of feeling "on alert" all day for the next news bulletin. I felt terrible when I woke up this morning. And I felt out of sorts from that point forward.

My thoughts and emotions are in overload from all of this. I just came home tonight and climbed into bed, watching the TV without really seeing it. I understand the need to keep the public informed, but much of this is highlighting what I hate the most about journalists during this type of crisis: their desperate need to dominate airtime with anything they can remotely relate to the tragedy. At a certain point, they stop reporting news in favor of creating news. The lines start getting fuzzy.

I know it's a time of unprecedented events. I know from my own experiences with the death of loved ones that life does not return to any semblance of "normal" for a very long time.

But at this moment, I'm craving one small measure of normalcy in the midst of this insanity.

Much of it is my own fault: I could have avoided listening to the live video feed on MSNBC from my computer all day. I could have played music in my car instead of listening to the radio. I could have left the TV off when I got home.

But like everyone else in the country right now, I'm glued to the resources that might bring me word of whatever's coming next.

During lunch, I sat in my car, eating and listening to comments from New York Mayor Rudy Giuliani. And I had to fight back the tears welling up in my eyes, afraid that if I started crying I might not be able to easily stop. I have a special fondness and respect for police officers and firefighters, and knowing how many of them died just trying to unselfishly do their jobs somehow seemed to be the trigger that allowed my emotions to finally surface.

Equally moving were all the stories of people calling from these planes on their cel phones to make final contact with their loved ones. Imagining their bravery and composure in the face of impending death is inspiring and heartbreaking.

I know I'm probably rambling here, but that is the way my mind is right now - just a rambling jumble of thoughts, chunks of news reports flickering around in my head.

An overwhelming sense of helplessness surrounds it all - will we actually do anything in retaliation for this atrocity?

I don't want to hear talk of being diplomatic and politically correct. I want to hear words of revenge, attack, punishment, death for those responsible and those who support them. We are not dealing with people who can be trusted to sit down at a table and negotiate peace.

I don't want to hear talk of prayer and religion; the religious beliefs of others fueled these actions. This isn't a battle of Gods, but rather a battle of those who have twisted views of their Gods.

I don't want to hear talk of living in fear and changing our basic freedoms in order to protect us from these attacks. I want to hear words of eliminating the problem at its source, destroying those who threaten our very way of life in this country.

I don't want to hear talk of patience - I don't want any more words at all - I want action.

Swift, measured - and deadly.