Can I just get some sleep please?

School is starting on Monday, the ulcer is bleeding, and all at once everyone needs something. Even my body. With all the phone calls and emails and appointments and faxes I get a screaming urgent message from my hip 'HEEYYY, lets not forget about MEEE!' Ugh.

I'll have you cut out one day you know.

So three cheers for me for not putting things off that I don't want to deal with. Well, I can't say that I'm completely done with all of them, but at least the list is getting shorter.

My lawyer needs this stuff. Stuff that when I moved I shoved into boxes and kept in the closet as not to let it linger around as a reminder of what was. The x-rays, the MRI films, the Dr's reports that are so brutally honest. Keep it seperate Amanda, don't let the sadness move with you (said the indian psychiatrist).

'Yes, I understand that this is they way it is now, but can't you at least give it a song or dance to help me not cry in your office please?

So by request only, I go through it, find records, read what is written. Look at films. Take it out. Introduce it to the new place.

Hello ulcer, didn't think I was going to have you bubbling this late at night, but truthfully I'm not really surprised.

Dr.'s reports are interesting to read as long as it's not you that your reading about. Especially the psychiatric ones. They poke and prod and measure and 'tell me about the relationship with your mother'. Hard for them to believe that anyone had a happy childhood I guess. His job must suck. Some of these questions. Good grief Charlie Brown. And then I get to the part about him and us and then. Oh yea, I did say that didn't I. Stomach cramping and soon enough I really don't feel good. Now I remember some of the many reasons I kept these things in the closet. And the pictures too. Appropriately enough I go to stand and get some air outside and my hip is stiff from sitting in the hall. It takes me a second to be able to step over the boxes that I have lined up in the hallway to find the stuff. It takes about 4 good limps before everything pops into place and I have a moderately normal gate.

I will cut you out one day you know.

Then I pass the clock and its 11. I'm done for the night. Unfortunately my brain is not. Just when I think I have it under control and I'm drifting of to la la land my phone rings.

Damn it. So close to sleep. I look at the clock, it's 1. I answer the phone.

"Someone better be in jail"

Amanda?

"Yes."

Hey it's (insert girl name here) from work. Did I wake you?

"Barely."

Oh. Well I was wondering if you wanted to come over to my house and have a beer.

(puzzled look has now crossed my face, I look over again and confirm the the clock really does say 1am. Oh sweet jesus. I realize....my mistrust of men is so obvious that I am getting a 1 am call from a lesbian at work. Do people think that I have decided to play for the other team? ((not that there is anything wrong with the other team))Holy shit.

"No thanks. I'm in bed. Maybe another time."

Really?

"Shit. No. Not like that. It's one of those things that you say to be polite. Not another time. No other time. No time. Noooo no no no no."

I hang up. That's perfect isn't it?

(still shaking her head in disbelief)