amid the struggle to keep my mind focused and awake, my stomach digesting properly, i've recently had a bout with a staph infection big enough to repulse the surgeon's assistant. i currently wear a wound an inch long, deep enough to hold a full roll of gauze, that drips like a leaky faucet every time i get out of the shower. in fact, it weeps all day long, still. i'm at war in my own home with cockroaches as big as my hand. my current conundrum at work involves a friend on the brink of termination; a once decent employee who's now bringing the whole team down. i'm in love with someone whose feelings are mutual, but now is not the time for us to be together. and the icing on the cake, quite literally: tomorrow is my birthday.
this is my agenda:
-take my antibiotics
-suffer through an hour of statistics in a class where no one cares to know my name nor understands what's going on
-go to two doctor's appointments
-forget whether or not i actually took antibiotics; recount every pill in the bottle to make sure
-probably walk the dog, maybe watch the last disc of My So Called Life
-attend a two hour statistics review session
-attempt to sleep (the harder you try, the less often it's successful, trust me)
oh, i suppose it'll be one of the better birthdays i've had.
i'll also be participating in my yearly ritual of avoiding all phone calls, listening to the messages, and feeling really old when my relatives tell me how old they feel that i'm getting this old. let it be known that i don't normally feel old, and won't the day after tomorrow. only my parents, brother, grandma, and maybe an aunt will call. my one aunt (mother's sister) will sing a terrible rendition of Happy Birthday on the message, and then laugh and laugh because she's such a terrible singer. this happens every single year. she's already called to assure me that she's been practicing. [for the record: one grandma called already today because she's in Las Vegas and will probably be "too busy to call" tomorrow.]
dear August, please hurry.
4 comments:
Several things you've written lately remind me of Azure Ray's "November."
Happy birthday, Sam. However old or infected or undigestive or roach-beset you feel, I'm pretty sure you're just plain awesome.
i feel you on the leaky wounds, roaches, and love. i had a bike wreck and my leg was oozy hamburger meat. our old apartment has so many cracks and crannies, it would be impossible to keep roaches out even if it were spic and span 24/7. i talked to my ex last night; we want to date, but he lives in brooklyn, so we're just going about, hoping one day we will live closer.
i hope your birthday was not as bad as you imagined. even though you can't have any alcohol with your antibiotics, sneak a sip of some spumante and text an eskimo kiss to your lover this weekend!
word verification: krousee
i love you sam...ooozy staph infection and all.
p.s. let's get old together
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