September 03, 2004
Today was a trying day.I left my apartment a few minutes earlier than usual this morning to walk to work and, later in the day, gain the affection of my highly neglected 'Shane Myers' edition mountain bike (as he put stickers with his name on each side of the frame!) by riding it to my Statistics class. I had my bike bag, lock and light, my hefty course book, my calculator and a small bag of Mom's chocolate chip cookies in my new leather back pack strapped across my shoulders. Upon my decent of the outside stairs, I picked up the newspaper and took a brief pause to inhale the sunny, morning air before I was off to wrestle this brand new day...
At Lake Country, I sat outside the front door, lit a cigarette, read the latest headlines and attempted to distract the sweat beads on my brow from dripping onto the First Lady's smiling face. Just as I was flicking away my smoke, Charlie made his appearance and unlocked the front doors with a little less than a whispered 'hello.' I walked briskly back to my corner desk wondering if he was feeling under the weather or simply tired. I began the crucial insanity of repairing the major mistakes that naturally occur upon my absence for two whole days, when Charlie plopped himself into a chair opposite of me, sinking slightly and rubbing one hand over his face. He began his speech, with words that referenced the owner, Chuck, more than himself, of how the store did not have the budget to keep me beyond the busy and bustling days of summer. He attempted to ingratiate me with stating that he hoped the feeling mutual of the deep respect he holds for me and I thought I saw him wipe away a tear or two as I held mine back in great defiance. I only remember the repetition of the word, 'breathe' in my mind as I wished away the growing lump inside my throat, while Charlie plodded on with talk. I, at first, offered to ride out the week at his request in order to tie up the loose ends sprawled out before me, but upon further inspection and after an encouraging conversation with Shane, I decided against it. If they so obviously have no need for me, they can fix their OWN messes, fluster their OWN local lenders and find the time to keep all of the wandering customers happy that poke about the helmets, dirt bikes and children's apparel. I suppose I understand Shane's position and great lack of initiative in such a place that never ONCE recognizes the slightest accomplishment; a place that never turns a head unless to fault, flounder or flee (all of which Chuck encompasses with full body and mind).
I quit the store upon packing several items from my desk, including my "Wheelie The Danger Gnome" that I once again relinquished to Shane's care (only this time at the Warehouse) in order to hopefully provoke an occasion smile from his lips despite his employment in a dark and dirty dungeon. I walked home after a brief break at the Warehouse - growing more and more angry with each step forward. Twice, I had been ridiculed by the ignorance of an ignorant owner. Twice, I had been shunned from his very presence and lack of nerve to give HIS thoughts a voice. Twice, I had been forced to flee the very place to which I was once so very proud (a long, LONG time ago).
I must confess that I did not lose the ringing in my ears, the shortness of my breath, the anger in my heart or the feel the full brightness of my green eyes until after many hours repose. It helped to have Shane call me after his Dr. appointment to announce that his white blood cell count went back down by 5,000 (he's halfway there, although he has not taken the upped recommended dosage of hydryorea, from the 10,000 increase of the previous four weeks). It helped to have your words of comfort and of the confidence that this event was a blessing in disguise. And so I rose at 5:00 p.m. to walk back (again!) to the Warehouse to fetch my bike and ride it to school despite the front satchel not being mounted, nor the light attached to the handlebars (as Shane had to leave early for his Dr. app.., you see, he could not help me with these things today). I had to drape the light with electrical tape, which I borrowed from Matt, as the screw's threads seem to have been stripped. Ben inspected my seat height, thought it too low and adjusted it accordingly, following up with adding more air to the tires. Chuck came and went without saying a word and I was only more eager to get my ass to school!
In all of my haste, I neglected the fact that I had not ridden ANY bike for more than the distance between the main building of Lake Country to the Warehouse and felt my legs reject their duty. The gears did not fall into place very smoothly and so I was riding a clunky bike with bitter legs, up a hill, with sweat stinging the corners of my eyes. I found the little fence in which to set my bike at Main Hall and realized that I had completely forgotten the chain and lock (although the combination to its absence lay tucked inside my left jean pocket...). I nearly fell to the ground attempting to stand on my wobbly legs but somehow managed to stumble all the way around Main Hall and to the bench in the garden where Mom and I sat the other day (only THEN did I realize that I could have walked half the distance behind Main Hall to reach this destination). I rested for a cigarette (which was a horrible idea with the way in which my lungs were still heaving) and then made my way toward Maxon Hall. Just before I entered the utterly quiet classroom, my cell phone began blaring that jazzy tune indicating that I had a call... I fumbled foolishly through my bag, in vain to silence the noisy mess and ran back to the outside air. It was Mark (from Sales and from Carroll - the man whom you met the other day); shocked to find me gone and questioning my countenance. I was okay but in little preparation to talk as I had been most of the previous hours of the day. I settled his fears with my lack of dismay and quickly turned my phone to silent as I sheepishly entered room 103 - Introduction to Statistics.
The two hour class was broken in half by a ten minute break with which I had time to reflect upon the day and check to see if my bike was still cradled in the bike rack (it was). My PROFESSOR (thanks, Mom =) seems nice, laid back (a little more so than I had hoped) and a bit spacey. The material is DIFFICULT, but my focus only wandering twice and only briefly each time. At our dismissal, I immediately removed myself to the bike rack (still there) and began my journey home which was ALL down hill from there! Tee hee! I almost clobbered two students from behind with late braking, I JUMPED a curb to avoid a plastic, orange fence around a big hole in the sidewalk and completely forgot about my little light, but I made it home okay! I pulled my bike into my storage locker and upon entering my apartment, began to review the notes I had taken in class (re-writing many) and finished all but one and half problems on our first homework assignment.
And now, my eyes are weary, my back is tense, my legs are stiff, my butt is sore from a super hard seat and my head aches from the exquisite mental anguish of study. My phone still turned to silent, my books are scattered about my new table and my mind is turned to mush. Today was a trying day - I cried, I screamed, I laughed, I laid helpless on my bed for nearly an hour, I defined a 'Null Hypothesis' in seven different ways and almost understood what the HECK I was defining. I'm a jobless college bum with nervous tendencies, a light taped to the front my bicycle and a grin glued upon my face...