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Tuesday, May. 17, 2005 / 10:45 p.m. ~When I Win - Washed Clean~ I think I have a touch of the sciatica. Ow. Nerve pain is odd pain, non-specific, hard to describe, deceptive, and forever shifting. I was searching for a topic, just to put something here, update the ol' index page, and this is the most pressing issue of the moment. Pain. Now it's in my calf. Upper thigh, lower thigh, calf, shooting, like I can imagine on some commercial on television, picture red flashing lines running up and down the leg, like red flesh lightning, a closeup of a woman's grimace, and then back to the leg and her hand rubbing it, trying to ease the pain. There must be a drug at the end of all this, and some sort of disclaimer, a warning of potential diarrhea, headache, loss of sexual appetite. Fine, I had a real live job interview today, all perfeshunl and all. Wore a suit, some opaque hose, girlie shoes with little spiky heels on them and everything, looked damned good. Passed through a ridiculous amount of security, wore a temporary badge, answered a lot of questions, tried to seem interested, and listened a lot, outside in the hot sun. In a suit. Wearing black hose. Opaque. Hot, in the sun, did I mention we sat outside in the sun? Because she was cold inside. No, I don't want the job. I want the money. Not the job. Two more interviews, possibly. Possibly nothing at all. Good god, do I need to expect that damned cell phone to ring first thing tomorrow? Yet one more interview, before the third? I need to change my ring tone, those cicadas are driving me mad. I never hear the first part, the gentle sitting outside on your porch at night in the heat of summer, gin and tonic in one hand, cigarette in the other (no, I don't smoke - okay, gin and tonic in one hand, genitals in the other - come on, I'm talking a sultry summer night, hot, nothing but cicadas singing all around and the heat, and picture "Body Heat", you know, ice cubes on bare skin, that sort of heat) cicadas, no, I hear the piercing ANSWER THE PHONE NOW! cicadas part. I really wanted the "In Like Flint" or "Our Man Flint", you know, the Flint, ring tone, the red phone, the president's red phone ring tone, and I found it online, but my phone is incompatible, like most of my electronics. Damned Luddite wannabe that I am. Money, I want the money. Speaking of, I should go watch the mega millions drawing, shouldn't I? Live. I bought the winning numbers, they're on my ticket of three. I should watch it live, find out for sure, then come back here to report that I won. Or, maybe I'll keep it a secret, yes, that would be wise. In fact, no, I won't watch, I'll wait, like I always do, and then I'll call, that's what I'll do, and I won't tell anyone I won, I'll simply call the department of labor tomorrow to schedule my appointment for reemployment services, and I'll turn off the damned cell phone (herewith and always and forever to be known as the 'damned cell phone'), never worry about that stupid ring tone again. Maybe first thing I'll do is get a massage to get this knot out of the back of my shoulder. It's been there for days - today I isolated it, I palpitated it, or palpated it, or something, and I discovered it is indeed a knot, and I immediately decided it's a malignant tumor, and I turned to Gladys and said, "It's cancer, I have cancer too now", no exclamation point needed. The drawing starts shortly, it's 10:58 as I type. I know I won, this time I won, I'm sure of it, and no, I won't say what I'm going to do with the money, but I know all the people who will get to share it with me. I know too many unemployed people right now, too many people struggling, and there are more who need money too. Maybe I could set up some sort of foundation. I'm a bit worried about my cancer and my sciatica, especially the latter, but especially the former, they both cause pain. I could have cancer, I could, how would we know? I ate a beautiful ripe tomato earlier, just simply sliced and dressed with olive oil and seasonings, and some broccoli with cheese sauce, a frozen thing in a bag, but family size, which meant I sat and ate the whole package, and thought that it's good to 'pig out' on tomatoes and broccoli, and now I want some potatoes, I'm craving starch. I'm going to eat at any restaurant I want when I collect my money, and I think I know who'll join me. I'm thinking of a family who could use a meal out, someplace really nice. I really could have used a topic, my head feels rather washed clean of any thoughts right now. Strange, but true. Cost of the War in Iraq
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