I don’t know how firefighters prevent the PTSD.

24 years ago I passed through the area of the disaster site in NYC, and the smells linger in my brain even now. One smell is smoky and ashy and dusty, another is a burny smell that’s different, and there’s one unrelated smell that’s unique to that area that will also trigger me. These days it’s a lot of “I gotta process this a bit more, but I’m okay” but they’ll still set me off a bit.

My grandad went to Normandy , my dad was a firefighter, and I’m glad I’m just a computer nerd. The most stressful thing I should have to do is make sense of all the broken things RedHat jammed together and sold as a product.