A couple of weeks ago I was sitting at my desk on the sixth floor of our midtown offices in New York City when my computer and TV monitors started to shake. (I have four; I'm a busy woman.) At first I thought there was construction going on somewhere in the building, which sometimes causes a little rumble, but as the shaking got more pronounced, and didn't stop, I became concerned.

Pretty soon the newsroom was buzzing. 'Do you feel that?' 'What was that?' Of course, now we all know it was an earthquake. But the first thing the little voice in my head said was, 'Get out of the building before it goes down.'

I tossed my phones (I have two, again, busy woman) in my bag and told my crew that I think we should start thinking about getting out of there.

A moment later as the shaking stopped word was passed around that what we had just felt was an earthquake. I sat back down at my desk, dazed for a moment, and then realized I was shaking. I am embarrassed to admit it, because I like to think of myself as a tough broad, but I was freaked out.

It's been 10 years since Sept. 11, and it only took at 5.8-magnitude earthquake to make me realize how much of that day I still carry with me.

As the anniversary approached, a lot of 9/11-related PR pitches started landing in my inbox, mostly about how to talk to your kids about the tragedy. As each one arrived I felt that familiar twinge I get when walking past tourists at Ground Zero, taking pictures of their kids smiling (yes, smiling) in front of what is, essentially, a cemetery.

Some days it feels like it was just months ago when the Towers fell, and some days it feels much farther back than that. It is still difficult to enjoy a crisp blue-skied fall day as it brings back that dizzy, sick and jittery feeling I had scurrying around as a twenty-something news assistant in our satellite offices in New Jersey as we pushed ourselves to get WSJ.com updated and breathed great sighs of relief as colleagues straggled into the makeshift newsroom.

But despite all this, I keep commuting into Manhattan every day, just like the rest of us bridge-and-tunnel NYC workers. And aside from knowing where the emergency exits are, I haven't changed my life in any way, even if I do get a little freaked out from time to time.