Monday, June 11, 2007

Hand Check

Thursday, October 02, 2003. 10:43 P.M. 621 W. Lombard Street, Womb 425. Dark. Winter Chilly.

The final test will be, can I avoid becoming a lawyer? It may well come down to that. God help me if I am found wanting.

[And ultimately, I was not found wanting. –K]

***

I'm a lot less invulnerable than I think I am. Witness when I got concussed. If I was smart, I could've avoided it by staying down when I got thrown down. Witness that I played tackle football with people much larger and stronger than me, and always attempted to take them down. Witness that I'm like the yappy little Yorkshire Terrier, all bark, no bite.

I think I'm going somewhere with this.

In order to challenge my mental acuity, I swapped my watch out from my left wrist to my right. If you've never done this, go ahead and try it for a day. So strange feeling the slight weight on the wrong wrist, and checking the wrong wrist for the time. This purportedly keeps your mind off-balance, thereby strengthening it. Kind of like how beer kills off the weaker brain cells, leaving the stronger to thrive. (Not that I drink too often. I can't afford to lose even the weak brain cells.)

This actually threw me off pretty bad, to the point where I cantered off to the right when walking down the hall while going to the bathroom. Every time I used a mouse, my watchband clicked against the desktop. Same with typing on the keyboard and the laptop. Couldn't even walk with my hands in my pockets, though I should stop with the slouchy eight-year old walk.

While on the elevator going down, leaving for the day, it stopped at floor five, and a woman stepped on. She depressed the "four," which saddened me, as she could've just walked down one flight of stairs. (Oh man, I'm a pot, and I'm calling her black. I could easily walk down from floor six to floor one, but I'm also a lazy m-----f-----.) Thing is, I've called her out on this before, but she's not going to remember me. I've one of those gentle faces that blends into the background, nothing very notable about it. Really wanted say something this time, too.

However, just as I was about to speak up, a suited man with a laptop satchel strode towards the elevator, and we stared at each other as the doors started to close. One of those pregnant moments, filled with potential, as those doors slid shut. And really, since I've gotten older, the instinct kicked in, but just so much slower.

For those of you that never rode an elevator with me at UMD, know that I often would thrust my right arm into the gap to pop the doors back open. Hurt like dry ice, but I really do think I'm more invincible than I really am.

And so it was that I thrust my arm into the gap. My right arm, with my watch. My business formal watch. Normally, it goes all the way into the forearm, and the ulna and radius take the brunt of the smash. This time, because of how slow I was, my knuckles were poised just between the doors, and I managed to stop just before it crushed the watch, instead giving up my poor hand and fingers.

I heard two gasps, one to my left, the other just beyond those doors. I also snorted, a despicable, hateful sound. The doors creaked back open, after almost slamming completely shut (if not for the veins on the back of my hands, they would be considered almost girlish). They were just amazed/shocked/appalled at my behavior. I keep forgetting that this is the real world, and I'm supposed to act as everyone else does. Then again, I can't be hurt, until I am, so it doesn't matter much.

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