Day 34

Yesterday was a hectic day. I was bombarded with messages and phone calls from students in my new online classes. Most are new to the online classroom; they have returned to school after years as customer service representative and cable television installers. For many, college is brass ring. They don't want to let it slip through their fingers. They are excited and nervous and inquisitive and impatient and they look to me for answers. I try to respond with understanding and logic but sometimes feel like I am caught in an avalanche of questions.

I spent several hours soothing the concerns of anxious students before I met a friend for tea at the Bucer's. We talked about truth and honesty and shame and honor and friendship and betrayal and love and men and women. We talked about the struggle to balance self-care with the demands and needs of others. As my tea grew tepid and the sun set, we talked about memories and plans for the future.

On the way home I stopped at Walgreen's. A pretty, young pharmacist helped me decipher the differences between the various remedies for sinus congestion and steered me toward the generic Sudafed. After signing a declaration that I did not intend to manufacture methamphetamines, I left with her warning that the drug may have a stimulating affect and is best administered in the morning.

I came home and popped a pill, made myself some soup and settled down in front of the television with Bill. Just as I was getting comfortable, the phone rang. It was Kat. She had exciting news from Evergreen. She is moving into a new apartment with friends from the LGBT community. She was excited about a one act play she is writing for a class. Listening to her speak is like watching a flower open through time lapse photography.

We ended the call when her phone battery went dead. I recounted our conversation to Bill just before Law and Order. It was an episode about a 12 year old girl who claimed she was raped by a wealthy arms merchant. He claimed that it was all a set up, an attempt to extort money. I fell asleep in the middle of this tangled web of accusations and lies.

I woke with a startle at 2:30 in the morning. My mind was filled with images from a dream. I was in a carnival fun house, cautiously making my way through, certain of the danger lurking around every corner. A hysterical, laughing clown startled me from out of the darkness. A moment later, I rounded a corner and found myself in a room of mirrors. I could not escape my own image, each mirror revealed a different distorted view.

As I emerged from my hypnagogic state I soon realized that I was not alone. All of the people with whom I had spent the day were there with me in bed: the students, my friend, Kat. They were all holding up mirrors. Each was reflecting back to me a different facet of myself.