Monday, April 09, 2007

Pieces of Weekend

Mom and I went to Costco. I am now the proud owner of an industrial sized bag of Stacy’s Pita Chips.

* * *

I had a soccer game on Friday night. I went to it straight from making an amazing chocolate mousse cake with Lucy.

In my game, we were playing an asshole goalie who thought so highly of himself that he would attempt to take the ball from his goal down the field to ours. On one of his monumental runs down the field, he took a bad touch on the ball. As a result, the ball was too far in front of him. I stepped up to the ball and crossed it to a teammate on the other side of the field.

And got leveled.

This fucker didn’t try to avoid me. He didn’t even try to slow down. Here I am, body in a very vulnerable, extended position as I am passing the ball and a grown man plows into me at a sprint.

It is like I have run into a brick wall.

I bounce off of him. I hit the ground. I hit my head.

I have never been hit so hard in my entire life.

I’m dazed and woozy as I get up. I am stubborn and I stay on the field. I am completely aware of what is going on, but everything feels foggy.

When I sit on the sidelines, I hang my head between my knees. I am nauseous. I am concussed.

Stupidly, I play the rest of the game.

* * *

There is a bit of concern surrounding me at the end of the game. Maybe I look as poorly as I feel? I’m not sure.

I probably shouldn’t have driven home.

I know that, ideally, I should be woken every two hours. It’s midnight by the time I get back to my apartment and I know that Colin is out with his friends. I call him and let him know what is going on. He’s sweet, concerned. He will call me and wake me on his way home from the bar.

EXCEPT THAT HE DOESN’T.

Self-absorbed motherfucker.

I’m still pissed. He called me on Saturday when I was at the bar with my friends and I let him have it – really, really have it. I dismissed his stupid excuse with a groan and a few choice expletives. I have never been so blunt or so mean to him.

He deserved it.

* * *

I felt horrible at work on Saturday. Nauseous and headachy and generally horrible. I left a few hours early.

Mom and Meg dragged me to the mall, where I shopped in a daze. I didn’t want to be there, but I didn’t want to disappoint them.

One of My Girls, April, was celebrating her birthday on Saturday night. At 9:00 pm, I wanted to be asleep. Instead, I was driving to the bar. Other than yelling at Colin and eating the chocolate mousse cake, I didn’t have much fun.

* * *

I finally started reading Mitch Albom’s new book.

* * *

Easter was low key and lovely.

I lost every Easter egg hunt I participated in. My parents still hide eggs for Meg and me. It’s cute. And my grandma, as always, had an indoor and an outdoor Easter egg hunt. Yes, outdoor. In the snow. With four participants over the age of 20.

Grandma’s house is like Neverland.

(Peter Pan’s Neverland. Not Michael Jackson’s.)

* * *

Colin sent me a Happy Easter text message. It was all I wanted from him.

Acknowledgement that I exist.

3 comments:

Amy said...

Let me know what you think of Albom's book. I loved it.

Hope you're feeling much better today.

Plantation said...

mmmmm, gotta love those pita chips ;-)

Plantation said...

P.S. I hope you're feeling much better.

 
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