Contact Kelli,
temporary manager
of Doug's
"The Wondering Jew"

2001-01-18 - 20:01 MST

January 18, 2001

File 13

I got up early this morning and zizzer-bugged around like a bumble bee bouncing of the screens, making a pit stop, taking my pill, took a look at the clock, thought six thirty, what am I up for this early? I expired and fell back into bed.

Heather came in at ten fifteen and woke me. As I crawled toward the coffee pot, she reminded me that nothing but water could be ingested until after the ultrasound test at two in the afternoon. So started my own damn fault day.

With a glass of ice cold water by my side I tried to wake up enough to read e-mail with the thought in mind that if I ever woke up again, I would answer it and trash the spam --or was it trash the e-mail and answer the spam? Every one was sending me e-mail in Greek or some other language, I could see the letters but they didn't talk sense to me. Whatever I did until after we made it to Denny's after the ultrasound was accompanied with the booming jungle rhythm of extreme starvation. I might not have been hunger struck, man, but my stomach was though. Kicking my mental shins for not remembering just why I was up so early and failing to at least have a cup of coffee and a banana before the ten o'clock cutoff time, colored the rest of the day for me.

I tried to do something, almost anything productive such as pounding sand down a rat hole and stacking BB's with boxing gloves on or painting microscopic pebbles, generally messing up which ever way my efforts were directed.

When it came time to leave it was the process for me to gather up the things I needed to take care of after our belated meal, locking our apartment and heading for the underground parking. Then remembering one more thing I needed and heading back upstairs, unlocking the apartment, turning on lights as I went in and as I hunted up the forgotten item I laid something down I had in my hands. Forgotten item in hand, out of the apartment, door locked, almost to the elevator and remembered laying the item down. Then came the mad dash back in and the frantic, dithering search for "laid down" item. By the time I had almost made us late we took off for our appointment.

A sane person could assume that at last we were on our way. Hah, hey Heather, please pull around front so that I can run back in and get my billfold. Out of breath sitting back down in the car and attaching my seat belt, I manfully took the dressing down from Heather I deserved.

From there on the rest of the day was filled with frustrations, delays, disappointments and other people's excuses.

Not only was it me who couldn't get anything right, it seemed as if the world around me was having the same problem.

After trying to swim upstream with one hand tied behind each of our backs for a good part of the afternoon, we settled by tipping over our king and leaving the board.

Here I sit tonight with one foot stuck in a wastebasket, tripping over a loose shoelace on the other shoe.

Entry ? Heh, File 13 . . . . . .

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