I sit in service, even when people stand to sing hymns. I'm worn down and dizzy still. In walks my old roommate with her stepfather. I actually really liked her stepfather. He was a funny guy with a dirty sense of humor I appreciated. For Christmas him and his wife came from Canada. They hadn't met me before but brought me a jar of Canadian chocolate syrup as a gift. To date it is the best chocolate I have ever tasted.
The roommate and her stepfather both see me. I know this because they continue to steal glances at me through the service. The sermon is given by Kate Lore, my least favorite of the ministers. She always clicks her tongue after every sentence and pronounces "us" wrong. During the sermon though she does this considerably less which makes me suspicious she may have stumbled upon my previous post in which I complained of these habits.
The sermon in about angels and whether not they really exist. It goes off in tangents but the overall message is to be angels to one another in the difficult times. I find this wholly ironic as the roommate walks around with her nose in the air after kicking me to the streets, acting like I did something to her. I really hate how she and her stepfather will make glances back at me but refuse to even acknowledge me. That's all I really want from anyone anymore, just to be acknowledged.
In the end that doesn't happen and when service is over I pack up my yarn and crochet hook and walk out the door behind them without so much as a hello, let alone an apology. I go to the library where I crochet on the bench outside until it opens. A woman with an accent asks me how long I've been crocheting and I tell her I started in November after having surgery. My roommate's sister taught me so that I could occupy my time while I was on bed rest. To say I was difficult to teach is an understatement but she was determined and now I'm a rather experienced crocheter.
People complain about the heat. I'm so hot I had no choice but to wear a dress as none of my other clothes would be tolerable right now (at least my clean ones). I've had to wipe pools of sweat off of me with tissues and napkins but it's pretty useless; my dress is soaked with sweat regardless.
I like to think I'm pretty tolerable of heat but it's the humidity that's killing me. I can't take it. When I mention that I stay in a shelter that's so hot no one can sleep the lady becomes engrossed in her cellphone and has very important calls to make. Never mind the fact that I just taught her how to color change.
Once the library opens I spend an hour doing what I do online then go to breakfast at #1. I ask if I can sleep somewhere again. I request my case manager's office because she has posters of The Beatles all over her walls and pillows in her room. We laugh that I can now rate people's offices by how good they are to sleep in. Mother Goose keeps saying she'll write a note so that she doesn't forget I'm sleeping. I find this funny. I really can't oversleep though. I need to see the clinic.
When the clinic opens I go downstairs to see my special doctor lady. While I'm waiting a guy with oober contagious skin stuff sits in the waiting room. I sit as far away from him as I can. Not because I want to be mean but because I cannot afford another sickness. Another guy comes in coughing up a lung and sits next to me. I just cannot win.
One of the guys with a broken foot rolls up to talk to me while I wait. He says he is going to have surgery tomorrow and he is getting med housing while he recovers. He and I talk about life with wheel chairs. In his credit for the most part he pushes himself around rather than depending on others to push him. We chat until I'm called back. I wish him luck.
I tell the docotor about the pop in my ear and walking to the library. She looks in my ear. The swelling has gone down which is a good sign but there is still wax stuck to the ear drum. Unfortunately, there is nothing that can be done about this besides seeing a specialist which is already on my to-do list. I tell her about how I've been achy lately and the way I've just been struggling and stressed out more.
"How did you even get here?" she asks, "We've never discussed this before."
I focus my eyes on the measuring tape on the wall. I don't feel like discussing this today, "I got sick. With that ovarian cyst. Lost my jobs. Dropped out of school."
We both agree that now is a good time to up my Cymbalta dose. The hope is that it will temporary and I will calm down again.
I see Houdini and tell him my side of the blow up with KL the night before. "Sister you need to make up with her; she's saying she doesn't want to be friends anymore."
"I can't," I tell him, "I push her around all day while she's bitching at me and the thing is I'm sick too and she has not once asked how I'm feeling with everything I've got going on right now."
"How are you feeling?" he asks.
"Pretty shitty." I say and we laugh even though it probably shouldn't be funny.
He tells me the no contact order has finally been lifted. This is good news. We can all be together again when KL and I get over this rift. I'm sure that we will but I need some time to myself right now. Houdini admits that KL has been short with him too and it frustrates him but he isn't going to ditch her. Right now I just can't take it. There has been a lot going on in my head.
In shelter I do my laundry because with the heat there's no way I'm sleeping. I don't feel like spending my night tossing and turning pointlessly. My roommate who has been gone for three days has returned. I was seriously worried she went into premature labor but instead her blood sugar was high from drinking too much pop so she was hospitalized for three days. She talked about having her own room and television and we are all envious. Being in the hospital when you're a street kid isn't really a bad thing. It means privacy and television. She basically had a three day vacation. I would never trade to be in her position but I'm jealous.
I pull up a chair to one of the window air conditioners and sit there to read. Most of shelter is staying awake for the same reason. Even staff try to take turns when they can up against the air conditioners. The one plus side is that people in shelter are much more hygienic right now. People are taking multiple showers a day just to cool off. I stand in a shower for forty-five minutes just to get out of the heat.
I put a wet wash cloth in the freezer and pull it out when I'm ready to attempt sleep. I curl up with my laptop and the washcloth down my tank top. It's a miserable sleep but I do finally fall asleep to "Up".
--mm
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