Every time I need a pen I can’t find a pen. I need to go outside and fix my car but I don’t want to.
I feel really sad.
I feel really sad because …I feel like , “uhhhh”…I don’t even know how to say this…like really…I LOST MY KIDS.
OK? Again…He’s done this to me again…and..like..ehhh….uhhhh….(Deep inhale)…He just lived with me for four years….Never paid a dime of rent…and…now he can’t return a text? And…um….I’m crying more than ever…I’m getting absolutely nothing accomplished…like…nothing…I won’t even go into the kitchen anymore and that’s because it’s a disgusting mess. The dishes haven’t been touched in maybe more than two months and there are gnats and pots stacked one on another on ever burner full of old rancid food and was never clean and more of those stacked on top of more of those….And you know what? I’m not gonna clean it.
I broke my collar bone last night trying to ride my son’t bike to the store. I didn’t realize it had been raining all day because the water was enormous everywhere.
When I ride, I ride facing the traffic and it’s a narrow two-lane highway. Because it was so wet, I had to stay closer to the road more than usual. It’s true I do like to play my own little version of Chicken sometimes but I really wasn’t even doing that. There was a guy coming toward me and I thought he’d slow down or move and he never did and I waited til the last second to move and something happened, I’m not sure what, and I flipped off my bike and landed on the same collar bone I broke flipping of a bike a year and a half ago.
When I broke my collar bone the first time, my son did inform me that his crank was broken before I used the bike. I had no idea that the “crank” was synonymous with “pedal” …I just figured “crank” was something down by the (trailer park that you put in a pipe and smoke) chain….definitely not the pedal. If I had known that, I would’t have ridden that bike, I would’ve probably just ridden the other.
I made it to the store and made almost all of the way back. I remember how tired my legs were and how I was tired of holding all these bags and pedaling. I pulled into the driveway which lead to my sidewalk and for some reason I cannot recollect why I stopped the bike…Maybe it was because every tenant from every apartment just happened to be outside so they could witness the upcoming onslaught. When I went to take off again the left peddle was all the way up and so I just put my left foot on it, stood up to take off and the peddle immediately came off.
I flipped over the front of the bike but not all the way and I landed first with my left collar bone which hit the handlebars. I then hit the ground, realized all those people in the parking lot saw what just happened. Enter Mary Catherine Gallagher, SUPERSTAR! I jumped up picked up the bike with my right arm and walked fast, carrying the bike, with the best smile I could conjure on my face. When I made it inside I threw the bike across the room and I fell out. I hurt so bad, and any part of me that moved made that bone in my clavicle hurt so bad I literally could’ve died…in my imagination because I’m very hard to kill.
I didn’t go to the hospital that night but when I woke up the next morning and really couldn’t move I went to the emergency room and they told me after a touch of radiation and a lot of questions that it was fractured. Those lovely doctors then gave me a sling and with much screaming, I got it on my arm.
I hated that sling. It was hot, and itchy, and wet-feeling and just gross…I hated that fucking sling so I took the fucker off. It didn’t fucking matter because there is absolutely no way I could’ve ever kept those bones together, me by myself, being aware of myself, all the time….yeah….no….off with the sling.
My bones grew back Into the shape of a small teepee. I hated it and thought it was disgusting but I did show it off as much as I could. Now the bones look like the teepee was torn down and whoever tore it down just left all the stick in a pile.
**This was originally written in June of 2020. I broke the same collar bone again, the same way less than a year later.