Maintenance

I can't sleep. I have to get up in five or four and a half hours and I can't sleep. I either dream about opening doors and not finding what I'm looking for or water. I have to work tomorrow and I can't sleep. I need to floss and brush my teeth and take care of my fingernails. I'd like to give myself a pedicure but I've never done that so I'd probably mess it up. I need to take a shower and wash my hair and do laundry. It's cold here. A cold that I'm not used to and had to stand in for forty-five minutes waiting for the train. I spent most of today packing up the majority of my things and getting rid of the rest.

I'm not sure what the end of all this is. I'm not even sure how to clarify that statement.

At night, just before I attempt sleep, I curl up on my right side and tuck my right hand just under and between my chin and the curve of my neck. I slide my left hand in between the loose grip of my right and slowly and lightly rock back and forth. I hold my pillow like a life preserver and breathe four times deeply.

It's not even a full day until I do that.

I'll try to sleep now, but I'd like to go for a walk first.

I just don't know where I'd go.

Potato

I'm moving in a few days. I'm getting rid of everything and I'm moving into a room in a gigantic house. Getting rid of everything feels really, really good. I won't own dishes or silverware or one of those plastic jugs to put juice in. I got rid of my potato peeler this week along with two boxes worth of other stuff and I thought I'd miss all of it, but the guy who took it was happy he didn't have to buy one. That made me smile.

The new place is three blocks from work and hundreds of dollars cheaper. I'm excited about this new path in my life. I don't know where it's going to lead me, but I like making the first step. I expect to have a baby panic attack once I get there though. I mean what if I need my potato peeler?

Either way, this is going to be good.

I think that winter is close to being over for me.

Bus

I don't when it was that I became so...so...so fearless. Don't get me wrong. I still am afraid of falling and heights and falling in love. But when it comes to the city bus and travelling I become this other person.

I live ten minutes driving from work. But because I don't have a car anymore it takes me forty- five minutes to an hour on the public transit system. Normally what I do is walk to the corner at 6 a.m., Sunday through Thursday, get a coffee, and stand on the corner to wait for the 77 or the 17. Whichever comes first. On the corner where the 17 comes, every morning there is an old man who trembles and is soft spoken. If it's raining violently he stands to the side to let everyone else on before him. He carries a plastic shopping bag that crinkles and sounds like a tiny river when he trembles. He's small and carries his shoulders rounded and hunched, so no one can get in.

On the corner where the 77 comes there's a lady with a limp and a cane. Her name is Gail and she is handicapped and takes care of her mother. Every morning she gets on the bus and rides 20 miles outside the city to take care of her mom. She doesn't like living in this part of town because of all the "homosexuals" but she lives cheaply so she doesn't complain much.

The other day I got on the 17 and my little rain man (as I've dubbed him) wasn't there. We both get off the bus on 5th and Everett and wait for another bus, but since he wasn't there I went it alone. During this time of the morning and on this particular corner I am always aware of my surroundings. I was standing there alone when an old black woman came across the street and headed straight for me. She asked me for a cigarette and I told her I didn't have another one. I don't open my bag for anything downtown. She stood there and stared at me for a few seconds and turned away. It was raining, I was tired, and it was 545 a.m. I just didn't feel good. I looked over to the corner where she was standing and I saw her crying. She started yelling that I didn't know who she was. Didn't I understand who she was?

Then she turned around and headed for me again. Now, at this point I am a little afraid because I'm there alone and I've made her mad or I've hurt her feelings. So I said "You can have the rest of this one if you want." Then she started crying again and asked me if I knew who she was. I told her no and she yelled that she was Michael Jackson. It was then that I loved her. I responded by saying that of course she was Michael Jackson, I was just tired and didn't realise. She got excited and asked me to sing along with her. I tried but she didn't really have any words so I asked her to get out of the rain.

My bus came right then. On the opposite corner was my little rain man getting off the 17. He nodded to me and I to him. Michael Jackson went on her way and waved to me as we turned the corner.

I waved back but she was busy talking to my little rain man.

Hope

I had a dream last night where I was in another part of the world. I think it might've been California but then I can't be sure. My hosts wanted to take me to the water but made it clear that we had to leave by a certain time of day. We arrived in the middle of the morning and I could see why they wanted me to see this part of the earth. It was beautiful in the way you see a picture that's been muted. You know that the scenery is amazing and soft and if you ate it, it would taste like sugar. In the dream I was a little girl and I kept running up to the blanket to ask why we had to leave at their specified time. I didn't have to be back to work for a long time and the water was so warm, I couldn't stop asking: "but why?"

I swam out as far as I could go without being scared and began treading water. Because I was trapped between being an adult and a little girl I figured I would swim far out and stay there until the appointed time so I could see what the big deal was. I could see my hosts waving their arms for me to come back in and heard their voices calling me firmly but gently.

Something in the way they yelled made me want to come to them right away. I don't know if it was the filter of the water or the way I saw their bodies express their beginning dismay, but I knew it was time.

So I walked out of the water that clung to my body like a sheen and the gentleman host said "It's too late, she's going to see it, we might as well sit down."

But I stood there with the water up to my shins and held my breath. Everything went silent and I followed their line of sight to the sky. I watched as the sun flipped like a coin and became the moon. The horizon, where the water and sky met was still on fire with the "other" side of the coin, but where I was, the moon became full and the water became clear, crystal clear and the sand, white. I felt lonely and small.

That was the last thing I saw before I woke up this morning.

I can't describe the loneliness I feel anymore. I can't make into words what this feels like. But I'm sitting here right now, in my warm apartment, listening to Friends on the TV and watching the way my hands look as I type these words.