Motherlies

If I rotate my shoulders just right, I can tuck the entire top half of my body into one of the tall gym lockers; then, I can lean on my arms so my upper body is comfortably supported in a warm, cozy box where I can check in with my phone things and update the various lists I maintain for keeping track of my workouts.

I was shivering when I cam inside, dizzy and bumping into things, and needed a quiet moment to relax. When I pried my body out of the locker, the cleaning lady was staring at me, and she burst out in a big belly laugh.

"I was about to ask if you were okay, and then I saw you texting in there."

"Aw, yeah, if I had just passed out standing inside my locker, I've got bigger problems in life."

Earlier, a police officer blew into the building in a gust of icy wind as I was leaving. She was bundled head to toe, and I was carrying my jacket over my arm and only wearing a flannel shirt and jeans.

"You're gonna need way more clothing than that, dear," she chided as I passed her.

I'm practically breaking my teeth while chomping down on uncooked ramen in my lab, and idly wonder if somewhere, somehow, my mother is flinching and doesn't know why.

27 February 2014 17:06