Friday, November 09, 2007

Kind of sexual the possibility of pleasure even within collapse

I don't know what it is about today that makes me decide to get my blood drawn -- something about the time change and how the clock says earlier even if it’s the same time, I think it would be fun some time to just change the clock six or eight hours -- everyone's clock -- and see what happened. But I decide today's the day to get my blood drawn, even though I've had the paperwork for 2 1/2 years -- the problem is that I'm supposed to go before I've eaten anything, and I'm a complete disaster before I've eaten anything, so I haven't been able to bring myself to go. They don't even take appointments, so I have no idea how long I'll have to wait. Anyway, I'm already outside -- 2 p.m. even with the fog and clouds still feels awfully bright and I'm still feeling morning sleepiness like I could close my eyes and fall asleep just standing here. But the bus comes right away, the place is only a few blocks away although it's quite bizarre walking through all the throngs of tourists on Powell Street, before I've eaten anything.

The place to get my blood drawn is in the same building as the ear doctor, there's a sign saying something about if you're there for mandatory drug testing, that's what I think the other people are doing because they seem awfully nervous. Usually I get compliments on my veins, but this time the phlebotomist says they’re too slippery, can I drink some more water? I've already had about nine cups, but I do feel dehydrated -- I'm always super-dehydrated this early in the day, plus of course I haven't eaten anything so maybe that's not helping my veins either. Taking my blood takes a while, but then it's done and I'm feeling super-calm I mean too calm because it's like a high, the room is vibrating. When I get ready to stand up, the phlebotomist holds her arms out in case I fall and then asks me if I need to lie down, I say no I just need something to eat, I live right nearby.

The elevator feels too fast I don't want to fall down in the elevator there might not be anyone to notice. Luckily there's a little café in the lobby and they have edamame, I get a plain toasted bagel too. The bagel catches in my throat -- I knew I would be allergic -- but the edamame is like the best thing I've ever tasted, even though it isn't cooked enough -- I'm so light-headed that the room is vibrating and they’re playing that terrible radio station that specializes in commercial top 40 dance mixes for the gays, you can hear the beats but the sound is fading in and out, I try to hear the announcer but all I catch is something about the Biggest, Gayest Party in the World! Squeezing lemon on the edamame brings me back. This café is actually kind of cute, a nice wooden floor, four tiny wood tables with design-y chairs. There are even people studying, probably Academy of Art students -- one of them has a reader called Signs and Symbols. Everyone who comes in is a European tourist or someone getting off work, Café Encore says the sign as I'm leaving. But the best sign is a few blocks later, One Dollar Lice -- is that really what it says? I look on the other side -- slice, someone made off with an “s.”

It's funny when there’s something tiny that's taken me 2 1/2 years to do and then it's done and suddenly it feels so easy. Until I'm back in my apartment and there’s the drill going through my head, is it because of the mold in my apartment or because I’m just drained from the blood draw, from leaving the house so quickly, from not eating enough, even after I’ve eaten more I still need to catch up. The only thing I know is that I need to get back in bed and think about how if I surround myself with this comfort then I can be comfortable when I get up too, which actually kind of works until later when I'm back in my apartment and there’s the drill again, I still don't know if it's just fatigue kicking in or the specifics of my dangerous home life. This is after a reading that makes me exhilarated then exhausted but also more present in my body, kind of sexual the possibility of pleasure even within collapse. This would be a good time to make out with someone, but not to search I’d get way too tired. I mean I'm already too tired, that's okay I'll just sit here and rub the back of my head, the short part at the bottom but maybe my ears too that feels kind of nice. Further than that makes me kind of sad although I'm not sure why, maybe I'll just go back to the ears.

3 comments:

matty said...

...sometimes, when my head is rub'd the right way it feels better than orgasm.

i hate giving blood.

i always pass out.

you did well!

grantatee said...

yay, im glad you were able to get that done.

sorry i missed you last night. i just updated my blog-- i do it so infrequently i figure i should just tell you when i do :).
xo,
grant

mattilda bernstein sycamore said...

Matty, you're right -- I should rub my head more often. But do you really always pass out when you get bloodwork done -- that sounds like a nightmare!

Grant, I'm glad too -- who knows if the test will tell me anything useful, but we'll see. And thanks for letting me know about the blog update -- I'll check it before I see you...

Love --
mattilda