Apr 21, 2011

Band of Motorists

We are human. We wage war, we lie, we cheat, we steal, we don't always tip well. We're petty, we're moody, we're unreliable, we're self-serving, we're spiteful. On the road we're angry, we're texting, we're cutting people off, and yelling obscenities. But somehow, out of somewhere, we all got together and decided it was us versus the police. 

I don't know how or why flashing your headlights at an oncoming car became the universal sign for, "There's a copy ahead, hiding, trying to catch you speeding. As your fellow motorist, I've decided to alert you to this upcoming entrapment. Good day." 

So, thanks to the guy who flashed his headlights at me on my way back to the office today. I salute you.

Apr 20, 2011

I Wish I Was a Video Game So I Could Punch Things and Get Rewarded for It

After weeks of suffering from moderate to severe abdominal pain, I had eagerly been awaiting test results to see what, if anything, was wrong and the best way to fix it. While I didn't want the answer to be ulcer, tumor, flesh-eating bacteria that maybe I picked up by a case of bad luck and poor timing, I had been hoping for something tangible with a concrete solution. If it turned out to be nebulous stress, that's tougher to solve, especially when I just want the pain to stop, and then carry on eating my Ben & Jerry's.

It's day six of waiting for my ultrasound results. I could easily just write a summary of the phone call I just had, but sometimes, when telling a story, the best way to have the reader experience the writer's emotions is with direct quotes. Show, don't tell—if you will.

Me: Hi, I had an ultrasound Friday, I'm calling to see if the results are in.
Nurse: Hold on.

(Time elapses)

Nurse: No, they are not in yet.
Me (now in my frustrated tone, since I also called yesterday): Well, I had the ultrasound Friday and they told me two days. I am WAITING to find out if something is WRONG with me so how you propose I go about getting the results?
Nurse: Please hold.

(Time elapses)

Nurse: Oh we did have them. I just didn't see them. Everything came back normal.
Me: So do I just keep taking these muscle relaxers then?
Nurse: Do you feel better?
Me: I feel better when I am on then, but as soon as I stop taking them the pain comes back.
Nurse: Please hold.

(Time elapses)

Nurse: Just keep taking the pills. You should probably go see a GI. Something might be wrong.

Apr 7, 2011

Should Probably Have Checked Out That Noise In the Kitchen

I'm working from home. It's wonderful. I also have a head cold. That is not so wonderful. Sometimes when I get sick, my nose plays tricks on me and things smell bad that don't really smell at all. Today may be one of those days, but I guess I won't really know until after the congestion goes away.

I got up early and went to the gym, trying to get my sinuses to clear. When I got home, I noticed a smell that I couldn't pinpoint. This happened once before and it ended up being bad turkey in the fridge. This time, I lit a candle in the bathroom, one in the kitchen, hopped in the shower and then went to the back of my apartment to my desk to work.

A couple of hours later, there was a noise in the kitchen. It sounded like my keys had fallen off of the table. Only slightly curious, I continued what I was doing. A few minutes later, remembering there was a candle burning that was nearing the end of its little candle life, I went to check it out.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear—but a small fire burning on my kitchen table! The glass the candle was encased in had exploded. I had the candle sitting on top of a yoga book I wanted to read, which was now being covered in liquid wax, glass particles were everywhere, tiny burning embers were strewn about the table and the top of my book was burning. Not sure what to do first, I tried to blow out the fire, which, as you can imagine, made it bigger. Deciding to ignore that for a second, I tried to get the burning embers off of my wooden kitchen table, so I picked them up. Yep, they're hot. So after burning my hand, I threw them on the floor and stomped on them with my slippers. Now there is charred candle bit smeared on my kitchen floor.

Back to the fire. I tried blowing it out again, this time harder. Luckily, it worked, but also just spread more wax everywhere. I got everything all cleaned up, but now I am left with burn marks on the table that Pledge cannot fix, a yellow burn on the book, a sore hand, a floor that needs cleaning and a burned placemat. It's really not that bad, had my laziness consumed me a little longer, it would have been much worse.

I think I'm ready to go back to bed.

Apr 5, 2011

Maybe God Hates Tires

It's been a shitty couple of months. There's really no other way to describe it. Just shitty. I guess "shit show" could also be a fitting classification.

I've been doing little things to try to get out of this seemingly inescapable hole—yoga almost everyday, I started writing a book (something I've always wanted to do so yay!), and I've picked up my camera and started shooting again. All the things that used to make me happy. Hopefully, each in their own small way, they are giving me the stepping stones I need back to a time when everything was possible. I mean, it was only a year and a half ago, surely I can find my way back.

So anyway, I've been finding joy in the small things that occur in my daily existence. Today I woke up to rain, but was actually excited about it. My friend's husband had fixed my broken headlight and installed a new windshield wiper for me last Friday. Yes, just one. The store was out of the passenger side wiper, but my side was all better, and since I'm the one driving I considered it just fine. For the first time, I'd get to see just how good this new wiper was that he had spoken so highly of, and I was happy about that.

The walk to the car in the drizzle wasn't even terrible because it was finally warm out. This winter, much like the shit storm, has been relentless...but it's finally lifting. I made it to my car just in time for the drizzle to become a light rain when lo and behold! I had a flat tire.

My heart sank a little and I was once again feeling defeated by the endless kicks in the gut from the universe (I mean, that WOULD explain all the stomach pain). I don't really believe in God and, well, if there is a God, him and I are going to have a long chat at the end of this life that will likely start with me giving him the finger. Regardless, I blamed him for my morning.

I emailed a friend with a picture of my flat tire and said, "Good morning! God hates me." He responded, "Maybe God doesn't hate you. Maybe he just hates tires." And with a laugh, I was once again on track. Thank you, friend.