I don't really have the stamina for talking into the wee hours anymore. There's nothing to be discovered there.
A relatively new friend calls to let me know she's been suddenly and rudely let go. She contracted Covid on the job, and it nearly killed her. She worked from home when she was well enough until she was strong enough to return to the hospital to face more Covid cases while well into her 60s. They didn't say thank you when they fired her. A business decision. She came to this country about 40 years ago after her husband was killed in an assassination attempt on a local government official. She had been through medical school. She had a small child. She knew no one in America. She managed to work her way through her residency without support. She eventually found a good job and got married. He eventually killed himself. She's alone now. Her son has grown and gone. Her work has been taken from her. She says it was nice to work with me. Jokes that we should retire together. I tell her I'll be in the tent draped in blue tarps out behind the Walmart.
I conduct an inspection of the psychiatric unit. It's poorly ventilated and hot. A paranoid young man wants to see my ID, know my name, file a complaint. He tells me that he only wants to see his wife. That's it. He wants to know if I am for him or against him. I am for you, but I'm struggling to tap into any optimism. One of the walls has a hole punched in it. I write this down.
The tropical storm with the exotic name toppled one of the dead trees behind the house which is now hung up in some of the live ones. I think the hummingbirds are nesting in there. I'm glad they made it, if they did. I drive out under an arch of fallen trees hanging over the road. The wind, and the rest of it, doesn't take your plans or your schedule into consideration.
The social worker in the hospital is very cute. Younger than me by too much. I haven't seen her in almost a year. We're wearing masks. Her eyes drift down to my belly which wasn't there before. Covid pounds, I want to say, but don't.
The lady in the pizza place is happy that it's closing time. She says her legs are still sore from yesterday, like she'd run a marathon. Lots of people lost power and ordered pizza when the exotic lady blew through town turning little worlds upside down and inside out.
A relatively new friend calls to let me know she's been suddenly and rudely let go. She contracted Covid on the job, and it nearly killed her. She worked from home when she was well enough until she was strong enough to return to the hospital to face more Covid cases while well into her 60s. They didn't say thank you when they fired her. A business decision. She came to this country about 40 years ago after her husband was killed in an assassination attempt on a local government official. She had been through medical school. She had a small child. She knew no one in America. She managed to work her way through her residency without support. She eventually found a good job and got married. He eventually killed himself. She's alone now. Her son has grown and gone. Her work has been taken from her. She says it was nice to work with me. Jokes that we should retire together. I tell her I'll be in the tent draped in blue tarps out behind the Walmart.
I conduct an inspection of the psychiatric unit. It's poorly ventilated and hot. A paranoid young man wants to see my ID, know my name, file a complaint. He tells me that he only wants to see his wife. That's it. He wants to know if I am for him or against him. I am for you, but I'm struggling to tap into any optimism. One of the walls has a hole punched in it. I write this down.
The tropical storm with the exotic name toppled one of the dead trees behind the house which is now hung up in some of the live ones. I think the hummingbirds are nesting in there. I'm glad they made it, if they did. I drive out under an arch of fallen trees hanging over the road. The wind, and the rest of it, doesn't take your plans or your schedule into consideration.
The social worker in the hospital is very cute. Younger than me by too much. I haven't seen her in almost a year. We're wearing masks. Her eyes drift down to my belly which wasn't there before. Covid pounds, I want to say, but don't.
The lady in the pizza place is happy that it's closing time. She says her legs are still sore from yesterday, like she'd run a marathon. Lots of people lost power and ordered pizza when the exotic lady blew through town turning little worlds upside down and inside out.
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