My son Charles, also known by his birth nickname “Chunny,” is a member of the Olympic Park Neighborhood Council. They meet at the Wilshire Police Station on Venice Boulevard in Mid-City Los Angeles. On Monday evening, Chunny and about 20 other neighborhood council members were meeting at that location, when a gunman opened fire in the lobby of the facility, a mere feet away from where the council was in session.

Chunny called me shortly after the shooting around 8:15 p.m. I did well Monday night, knowing he was safe. But since then, I have been overwhelmed by a tremendous sense of fatigue.

Shock at what happened and what could have happened? Anger that, yet again, a lone-shooter has made his way into a public area and unleashed bullets? Sadness, that my 17-year-old son was crouched on the floor, in fear, hiding underneath a table for 10 long minutes while more shots rang out? Sadness that when the door was finally opened where the council was meeting, Chunny and his council members had no idea if the door was opened by the shooter or police officers?

Chunny was finally released at 12 midnight from the station on Tuesday. The council members remained in their meeting room for quite a while while the injured officer and shooter were taken to the hospital. The building then was in lock down while police searched for bombs and the suspect’s car.

When Chunny got home, he gave me a hug (which is not unusual), but this time it felt a little different. My 6-foot-1 250-lb. son had been scared for his life.

“I really thought it was over, Mom,” he said to me in our dim lit hallway. “We had no idea who that was opening the door to our meeting room.”

He went on to say he had a algebra mid-term later that day and would now go to study for a couple of hours. My children have had a spotless history of never missing school, but I told him: “Sweetie, you’re staying home from school tomorrow.” And he did.

While he woke up a few hours later in good spirits I did not. And my day only went from bad to worse, the more I read online about the shooting and the suspect. As a news reporter, I cannot get enough information, on nearly any topic.

We had a quiet lunch together on Larchmont Boulevard. He just kept saying: “You OK, Mom?” Yes, I would reply. I just feel like being quiet.

Exhausted. Overwhelmed. Angry. Sad. Exhausted. Overwhelmed. Angry. Sad.

When we got home from lunch he said, “Hey! I want to show you some things on You-Tube.”

“Dude, I am incredibly tired,” I replied. “I just want to go upstairs and rest for a while.” (I am not a napper so this is unusual behavior for me.)

“No, no, no! You must see this,” he said reaching for his laptop computer. He tapped his hand on the sofa three times, motioning me to come sit next to him.

He played for me Anna Kendrick’s now so-called “Cup Song” from “Pitch Perfect.” He thought it important I understand Kendrick’s spoofing this song on a recent episode of Saturday Night Live.

Up next was the now-gone-viral-video of the 3-year-old Chinese boy’s audition “with his boom box baby.” Although I had already seen it, I watched it again and we found ourselves both laughing hysterically at the little boy’s Michael Jackson like dance steps and unbelievable poise.

I felt better. I felt much better.

Then, as promised, I went upstairs to take a nap. As I left Chunny, I found myself wanting to place blame somewhere and said: “You would think a freaking police station would have a metal detector,” I said. “You would think a police station would be safe.”

Chunny, always positively argumentative (he really should have been on a debate team), said, “Mom’s you’re really starting to make me mad now. It’s not the police station’s fault. Those police officers saved my life last night.”

You’re right, Chunny, I said, standing corrected.

I went upstairs to rest, but first, I logged into my computer and learned the shooter, Daniel C. Yealu, had a sizable cache of weapons and ammunition in his Palms apartment and had brought more ammunition and an AK-47 in his car to the police station Monday night.

And then this was the statement that really got me. According to Los Angeles Police Commissioner Steve Soboroff police now believe Yealu had intended to shoot up the entire building, angry at being rejected by the police academy.

Fatigue overwhelmed me again. (Yesterday, I discovered if you are personally involved in a news story, perhaps it’s best to not keep checking for online updates.)

I went to bed and watched HBO on my iPad. I chose to watch the sometimes brilliant and sometimes not-so-brilliant “GIRLS,” my favorite episode of season 3. In this episode, Hannah is in a tall office building in New York awaiting a meeting with her editor, who is late. When she notices confusion and chaos amongst the publishing house’s employees running through the lobby and the receptionist’s phone ringing off the hook, she meekly approaches the receptionist.

“Not now,” the elderly receptionist says. “Not now.”

Hannah replies: “But, um, I just wanted to see if it was safe to be on this floor of the building.”

Last night I moderated the Los Feliz Neighborhood Council’s Candidate Forum for their upcoming election this Saturday. Over and over again, so many candidates spoke of “public safety,” or hoping to find ways to help Los Feliz decrease crime. All good statements; all good intentions. But there is no way to stop planes flying into buildings or a lone 20-year-old from shooting up a school in Newton, CT or a disgruntled man opening fire in the lobby of a police station.

Adam Lanza and Yealu, had one thing in common: a cache of weapons. Me? I don’t have a gun in my home, but I do have a mini-Dodgers baseball bat I received some years ago at a Dodgers give-away day that I keep under my bed. God help me.

I remain tired today. Chunny is his usual funny self already thinking ahead to this weekend’s Coachella Valley Music Festival, our annual Spring rite of passage.

At least at Coachella, attendees go through not one, but two metal detecters.

The injured police officer from Monday night’s shooting was released to go home last night. The shooter remains in serious condition after surgery yesterday.