Posted July 8th, 2003 by Michelle

The events of the past week almost defy description. It has been, well, at best, totally wierd.

Let’s start with the Saturday double I worked just four days ago. I worked the floor during the day, and then the bar at night. I got done at about 2 AM, and then headed to my friend Hayley’s house to spend the night. I had arranged to do this since I had to be back to work at 10 AM Sunday morning. I got to Hayley’s at about 3AM, and when I opened the door to her guest room I knew I was in trouble. There was no fan, no air conditioner, and certainly no breeze. So I stripped in hopes of surviving the night. 4 AM found me staring at the ceiling, lying in a pool of my own sweat, nauseous from the heat. I gave up at about 4:30 and left the apartment. At this point I was delirious with heat and exhaustion, and I sat on her front porch and started crying. I was afraid to go all the way home, since I knew I would never make it back to work. I ended up calling my mom and riding all over the area trying to find a hotel where I could sleep for a few precious hours. At 5:30 I gave up once again and headed to my restaurant. I wheeled my bike past the porters who cleaned the restaurant at night and curled up on a banquet in the back dining room. I dozed on and off, at the mercy of the workers who were banging the wine ice buckets and vacumming the stairs. At 9:30 I dragged myself to the bathroom and cleaned up, and started work at 10.

Obviously it was a difficult shift, but the light at the end of the tunnel was the 6:30 PM appointment I had that night to get my air conditioner installed. I rushed home, only to find a message from the guy who was supposed to meet me, saying that he had already been there, he was now back in the city, and he would not come back that night. My phone call to him consisted of us going around and around with me saying, “But my appointment hasn’t even started yet!” to him saying, “I know, but I was already there!” “But it’s not even 6:30 yet!!!” “I know, but I was already there!”

I resigned myself to another sleepless, sweaty night, and woke up at 8 AM when beautifully, deliciously, my air conditioner arrived. But I was off for another double. I was back at work at 10 AM, and got home and to sleep at about 3 AM. And then… this morning was my French class, so I was up at 8:30 and out the door at 9. At approximately 9:11, I swerved to avoid a van that stopped rather quickly at an intersection. I was riding down a hill, so I was rolling along fast, and I hit the ground so hard and so quickly that I could barely remember what happened. Suddenly I was lying on my side, on the hot pavement, my bike tangled between my legs.

Luckily I was wearing my helmet. I cannot imagine how bad it could’ve been had I not. I knew I was banged up, but I didn’t know how bad, and I started crawling out from under my bike. About four men had dashed over, from both the surrounding cars and sidewalk, and a cop happened to be right behind me as well. One guy picked me up from under my armpits and settled me on the ground, and I was crying and saying I was okay. For a second I didn’t know what to do, but then I remembered I had to get to class and I swung my leg over my bike, still bawling, and continued pedalling down Flatbush.

I rode for almost half an hour without assessing my wounds, but when I happened upon an ambulance somewhere on 3rd Ave in the 20’s, I knocked on the window and begged for first aid. The EMT pulled over and gave me a bandage and some tape, but said she didn’t have anything to clean it with, and promptly drove away. I was even more aware of the pain at this point, and when I found a guy watering the roses at a deli, I borrowed the hose and let the water run through my scrapes. I had literally opened my elbow, a long, deep abrasion and a good gash at the end, but not anything that would benefit from stiches. I had also gotten both knees and the top of my left thigh, were a pretty impressive raised shiner is currently keeping me from crossing my legs.

I made it to French Class, where I was immediately sent to the office. A nice French woman handed me a bottle of peroxide and a couple bandages.

I finished class, lunched with Jordi, went to my restaurant for a mandatory wine tasting, and finally trudged home. I feel as though I’ve been hit by a truck. I will admit that I’m having a particularly rough week, and that I’m a little lost as to what to do about it. No, that’s a lie. I’m completely fucking lost and don’t even know where to begin.