I woke up at noon thereabouts. My back ached from some leftover lactic acid and adrenaline. My heels were sore but workable. I crawled from bed like an evolution diagram. The earlier morning hung slick in my eyes and mouth. The cold air and concrete didn't help. I could accept what had happened, but the symbolism didn't compute. I knew I had a very short fuse (though I hide it well)--and that could well be me some day.

If it were a cigarette I'd have stamped it out, just a smudge that vaguely suggested something if you cared to look at it later.

I slanked back to that house, into the computer room. Dorknoodle had written another note about Adam calling. Dork apologized again. I wasn't processing anything just yet. I could see Dork and speak to him, but a transparent mouth seemed to hold me down, like medicine burning beneath the tongue. I couldn't think much. I suggested coffee. He suggested putting on a pot. I couldn't take black on an empty stomach.

I sat there watching something incomprehensible as details came: we were leaving soon, to Seester's, via her husband, soon, unknown how soon. I had to keep ready. Somehow the dashboard light indicating I'm hungry came on. I tapped on the glass to make it leave. The tired scrapping of something you might call thought just obscured it, for awhile.

Dork told me in passing someone had left voicemail. It wasn't made clear by whom. Later he mentioned it was female. I didn't know how to get voicemail; hell, I forgot he had a phone or how long I'd been here. Something told me the voicemail would help. The van came. I got in. Words floated past like lit cigarettes. Somehow I'd forgotten again. Wasn't there someone I needed to call? I perked up when Seester's husband mentioned a bar. Somehow that'd do better than coffee, food, or dime novel catharsis. I could smell my father in that sudden alcoholic jump to consciousness.

I gradually snapped back to myself. We made it to Seester's. The home was a gallon of angles and objects, clean and inviting. I was given a dime tour. Then a guiness. The chilled glass was tangible, almost biting when we four stood on the back porch as the sun died. I wore my blue oval glasses and occasionally looked into a reflection. For some reason I looked professorial at that time, or somehow I could see the foundation of something I was becoming. I assumed it was just childish fantasy and concentrated on socializing.

Eventually, I tried re-establishing communication with the important ones. Somehow Adam's number had been lost in a shuffle. I called back good friend #1, who had left the voicemail message. It was 11:30pm. She sounded slightly peeved as she answered. I asked if it was her and began to talk. She hung up four words in. I called back a few minutes later and left a concilliatory message. I had gotten upset back in that early morning for some reason, while the tension in the main bedroom mounted; that must have sounded clear in the note I left her--one which was more angry than I meant. I'd tried leaving a subsequent one after my 6 mile meander, but I guess she first left the voicemail and then read my offline messages.

See, I tend to get obsessively worried when something seems wrong between me and a person, but the reason is unclear. I was good this time and just left that one message. I guess I've learned a little about seeming calm.

I talked to a few other people, offline and online, finding some comfort and good company. A few other people I spoke to seemed upset with me. Today wasn't the day. I wasn't in the mood. I thought I was fine but I realized the event got to me--really only as I'm typing this out to me and you. Anyway, I singed some bridges, made some quick repairs and quit when the whole chat thing had died off.

Right now I'm going to watch Memento. That one always seems to hold some of my answers, or at least reminds me what it's like to lose yourself and find happiness in that.

The house is quiet and I can strip Me off in the corner. It can gently rot in a crumpled heap.

That thing will be there when I get back.

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