Sleep to dream? Or to stay away?

Shock is sort of like a ghost that comes to visit and moves things around and when you return, you notice things have changed a bit.

I recognized its aftermath a few Saturdays ago, while riding my new Schwinn bike through City Park on a beautiful Saturday. Freshly moved in, I had finished with boxes and the old place and for the first time since, well 2005, felt I had the right to do nothing all day.
And when I went across the FDR era bridge behind the Museum, I awoke. Startled, I looked to the right and saw the casino shop serving relaxed people, tour buses idled in front, and people paddled in the boats under me.
No one looked harried or were seen talking quietly with hands on arms to comfort. No drywall dust on shoes as far as I could see. And I felt almost normal. .
I know we are not done-FAR from it. But like a good going to a great batting average in baseball it just takes one more swing to be winning (... "Know what the difference between hitting .250 and .300 is? ... you get a dying quail, just one more dying quail a week... and you're in Yankee Stadium"-Bull Durham).
Are we tilting to good or great? That day I felt that we might be and honestly it was the first time that I felt that way since tears were pouring down my face as I drove north on August 31, knowing people-old people-were dying on their roofs from dehydration and grief.

I have marveled at the toughness and humor emanating from my neighbors and even relaxed with them after a tough day. I have laughed and told funny post-K stories while I traveled to do my very important organizational work but I was sleeping still I see that now.

I feel ready to stay awake now.