M.I.A.

i'm on my way to work, i'm running late as it is- i have run late all week, recovering from jetlag, and this squirrel runs out and i hit it. i heard it hit the right front tire and it was terrible... TERRIBLE. so i thought maybe the sound was exaggerated so i look in the rearview mirror and, oh... this is where i lost it- the squirrel was still moving on the ground, not quite dead, but unable to move from the impact. i was so upset- i knew that i had to go back and put squirrel out of his misery but couldn't do it.

i couldn't euthanize

i couldn't get over running late

i couldn't decide so i went to work and cried: the whole. . . way. . . there.

work goes as it does. i answer the phone, and i think i've mentioned this before- picking up the phone is interesting b/c you never know when you are going to actually help someone. so there is a phone call, it's a woman who's been assaulted- an unfortunate, all to often occurrence in my office.

but what if she's assaulted by a women?

what if she doesn't have insurance?

what if she's been bleeding and doesn't know where to go?

what if she's been called a 'dyke' at planned parenthood and can't go back?

what if she doesn't feel comfortable talking to me because of my status... my priviledge as a straight woman does not make her comfortable?

there is just nothing i can do to make her pain go away- i know that, it's a reality- but at this point i can't even get close enough to soften the blow because she has been screwed by the system in ways i will never know or see.

i want to say that i'm with her... i'm her sister in solidarity but i know that she just wants a number to get help and she wants to move on- i realize my telling her anything other than that phone number would be b/c it makes me feel better- not her.

so i keep it together long enough to get her what she needed and get off the phone. i couldn't even make it to shut the door before i lost it. i just turned my chair around and cried. the dam broke because there is nothing i will do that will undo her experience. there is nothing i will do that will make her comfortable getting help from me. there is nothing that will let her talk to me about anything other than the fact that she just wants a goddamn phone number.

but Michael Eisner said today that one of the most important experiences of his life was... not college, not graduate school, not masturbating, or even dating. it was CAMP. that's right- camp, the place where rich kids go to be with other rich kids so that they can learn to tolerate each other.

so from my wet stupor, i dry it up. and drive home- slowly, hoping to avoid those kamikaze squirrels. Emilie still laughs at my wet display over the squirrel- well. . . i'm fuckin' sensitive- shit!

This entry was posted on Tuesday, June 14, 2005 at 12:05 AM. You can skip to the end and leave a response.