Everything is sort of fine until lunch with Dad. Then my grief over Joe comes plunging out. We are eating at Dressel's...dark, wood-paneled bar I hate. Perfect backdrop for strippers. We're in a bar! WTF? Then, as my soul comes spilling out on the table like a gutted fish, entrails hanging everywhere, draping like an octopus over my salad and hummus~ lo and behold: an ex-stripper bitch sits down behind and eavesdrops a little...long enough to see that I am about to cry. Then she laughs at me to her boyfriend. I can imagine all the internal references in her mind to 'Crazy Brianna'. Finally I get up and ask, with eyes flashing, if she remembers me, how she is doing, and if she likes her hummus. Catty bitch. The look of abject fear in her stupid little gossipy eyes is immensely gratifying.
Later, I go home and become crazy like I used to be... I can't stop crying. I want out of this shithole of a city where people are so frequently dull, and hooked on the Busch family beer. I want to leave my giant behind me, stop running into people who formerly bullied me, and just rise above the sun and smile.
For a while I am afraid I won't be able to teach my class. I call Jen and tell her I need a sub. Then I do Bound and change my mind. If I can do Bound, I can teach. I draw inner strength I didn't know I had. I teach my class and it is fine. But I think my boss might think I am little crazy, and I am, but aren't we all? I come home and crash.
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