Friday, August 5, 2011

Quite A Day

Warning: At the risk of freaking you out on several accounts, I'm pasting an email onto this blog.  The email was written almost exactly one year ago, about a month before I left Washington DC. I originally sent this email to a VERY small bunch of people.  I am reprinting it here with absolutely NO edits.  If and when you see me next, please...I'd rather not discuss or laugh about...certain elements of this. I just think editing something like this for "public access" is a little like watching Pulp Fiction on TBS.  What's the point?  So Dear Reader, I choose to expose myself a little bit with this unabridged and very personal view into a random day. (And gentlemen, please hang in there for the first couple paragraphs. In order to get the story, you need to read the beginning of it.)


From August of 2010:
Yesterday, I remark to Jeb that my ankle only has probably another week or week and a half before it starts to feel okay.  (you know the ankle.  it's the one i hurt right before my wedding and have re-injured it four times since then- the latest was three weeks ago when i fainted at a concert.)
Been having horrendous PMS for almost two weeks.  Bad. I'm all, what's wrong with me, already???  where's the freakin period for shit sake?
I look in my calendar.  It says the last time I had my period was seven weeks ago. what? Did I forget to record it last time?  I've gotten really sloppy about it in the past year because at first i wasn't having sex with anyone and then once I did.... Jeb has had a vasectomy- like YEARS ago. To be clear, I occasionally have small anxiety attacks about the vasectomy- that it isn't going to work and so forth....
I spend four days obsessing over the lack of period.  I convince myself I'm pregnant. All the slurred speech, clumsiness, sore boobs, pain in Fallopian area, HORRENDOUS food cravings, bouts of emotion...that's all because I'm pregnant, not because I'm PMSing and just forgot to record my period the last time. Yesterday I google up some information about pregnancy with a partner who's had a vasectomy. ........I'm reading through some of these articles and ................OH MY GODDESS!!! IF I'M PREGNANT HE'S NOT GOING TO BELIEVE THAT THE VASECTOMY DIDN'T WORK.  HE'S GOING TO THINK I CHEATED ON HIM!!!  (sigh.......  )
Work myself into a complete tizzy. 24/36 hours of this. 
Drive to CVS in ghetto.
Store is packed.
Pregnancy tests locked up.
Exasperated.  All huffy.  Leave store.
Go across street to supermarket. 
Find tampon isle. Bolt up isle.
Someone has spilled.....conditioner? moisturizer?  sex lube?  all over the floor.
It's the same color as the floor.
I don't see it. 
Of course.
I take the header of all headers. 
Cacophony so large that it actually measures on the Richter Scale.
Remember, I don't wear underwear.
Ever.
Skirt on.
Short one.
It wasn't funny until RIGHT NOW while I'm writing this.
Two people in isle saw the whole thing go down.
They are old.
Thank goddess.
I try to get up.
It's very difficult.
Oh no. 
Ohhhhhhhhhhhh no.
Ankle.
Pain.
Shooting up my leg and into my knee.
Ankle swelling.
Quickly.
So frustrated. I start to tear up.
Like an asshole.
They sit me down at the pharmacy near where I fell all the way in back of store with some ice and take my information.
I'm angry and upset and in pain. (I'm not being very nice.) But honestly, neither were THEY, all things considered.)
Manager asks me what item I was going for.
I tell her, "I'll get it myself!"
Crying.
Like an asshole.
Make up is everywhere.
When they go away, I get up.
I sort of walk (looks really bizarre like I'm some sort of zombie) to the isle next to the one I fell in.
I lumber around like a jackass.
Can't find pregnancy test.
Go to pharmacy. A little aggravated, "Excuse me, where are the pregnancy tests?
The answer: Oh, they're all the way at the front of the store behind customer service.
Really?
Go back to front of store.
Customer Service looks through the locked case and says, "Oh we must be out of them."
REALLY?!?!?!?!?!!!!!
I go back to CVS.
It is still packed with people.
I go to the pregnancy test isle.  There is a locked case with a large button that you have to push to get someone to come and unlock the fucking things.
I press the button.
Intercom: A CUSTOMER NEEDS ASSISTANCE IN FAMILY PLANNING.
Everyone in line at the pharmacy turns and checks me out.
No one comes.
I press the button again. I'm in the middle of a fucking WORK day here.
Intercom:  A CUSTOMER NEEDS ASSISTANCE IN FAMILY PLANNING.
I'm really starting to get bitchy.
I turn to my left and sort of wave my wedding ring-less hand in the general direction of the pharmacy counter audience. FUCK YOU.  DO YOU HEAR ME, MOTHERFUCKERS? I SAID F U C K.  Y O U.
No one comes.
I hobble to front of store.
Mob scene.
Me: Hey! Hey you. (swear to you) Do you have KEYS to unlock the PREGNANCY TESTS?????
Him: Uh, yeah.
Me: Let's go!
I get home.
I take test.
I am not pregnant.
Hellooooo? Jeb has had a VASECTOMY.
He happens to call right at that moment.
I tell him everything.
Jeb: Well, I can't top that story.
Me:  yammer/stammer/tears
Jeb: Do you want me to take another test and they can see if there's any active sperm getting through?
Me: No. I know you did all that already.  I started to freak out because I was reading all these things on line about these men finding out that their wives or partners get pregnant after they've had vasectomies and of COURSE they think she's cheated on him!
Jeb: Well, yeah! Look, it would take an act of GOD for you to get pregnant.  And if that happens then guess what.  That kid is going to be an ASTRONAUT or something.  He'll be the first person to walk on the SUN.
(*i'm cracking up. you gotta hear the inflection of his speech- Patti, you can picture this, right?)
I get a call from a customer.
He's a dick. Then I make him feel like a dick because he was blaming me for something that someone else did and I was able to prove it while we were talking.
Get an emergency call from another customer.
Have to go out to Maryland in afternoon rush hour.
I get back to apartment.
Get out of car.
Bird takes a huge shit on my head and left arm.
Good day.

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