Some Things about Forgetting Your Phone at Home

-I have absolutely no concept of time. I have asked a lot of strangers for it.
-Made plans for tonight that are contingent upon a play I am attending. I will show up when I show up. I tell this to Bisque, and he says, "It will be just like the 90s!"*
-Freeing. There is nothing in my hands.
-I wanted to take a picture of the sunny palm trees. No dice.
-This should be a post about the beautiful people of Chicago, Illinois. But the photos are on my phone.
-Hope there were no emergencies today with people near and far.

*Friday night I got off at the wrong el stop when meeting Sitch for dinner. I called and we tried to plan where to meet. "I suppose...we should just walk toward each other?" And Sitch was smart enough to specify which side of the street to walk down. East we decided, and as I hung up, I got a bitty chill. The mystery of when I will see my friend who I haven't seen in a long time! Even though we had just talked voicebox to voicebox. Oh, cell phones. Oh, cell phones.

Hit

I was hit by a truck today. On my bicycle. The cliche is true. Time does slow down. One second expands to a million decisions. One minute my biggest concern was wondering if I would have enough down time at work to grade. Next, I see the driver only look one way as he's turning out of the parking lot. I was already in front of his grill. I knew it was about to happen. I screamed with everything I had. My brakes couldn't save me. The vehicle plowed into me. I flew. The tires moved forward, and I thought I was going to die. But, no, it was a lurch from being put in park. A man in construction garb ran around to me asking, "Can I call 9-1-1? I'll call 9-1-1." I had burst into tears. It was as if someone had injected me with a triple shot of espresso. My adrenaline was so high. Busy time of day on a busy street--people stopped traffic, ran from their cars, "I saw what happened!" they yelled. I was partially blind by my nerves. I stood up and all I could think about was how scared I would be if I had hit me. I kept assuring the man I was okay. I was okay. I was really okay. I wanted him to know. I wasn't thinking straight, but I knew I needed to make the man feel like he hadn't done anything wrong. That it was going to be okay.

I wanted to walk. A voice in the back of my head said, "You have to get to school still. You're subbing today. You'll be late." I honed in on that need and started walking. I couldn't stop crying. It was instinctual--surely chemical. My bike chain was screwed up, I walked. I felt like I should call someone, but I knew it would sound much more dramatic between sobs. I put my phone away. I got to the class late, really fine, but still crying. I couldn't stop for about an hour. I held up my bloodied, bike-greased hands and excused myself to the bathroom. I taught. I let them out a little early. I got hit by a truck, you know? I also had two pieces of cheesecake for dinner. I got hit by a truck today. I think it's okay.

EDIT: After to waking up to concerned texts I want to say I AM TOTALLY FINE. I have some scratches and bruises, but I really am fine! I actually had a pretty good day. I was let out of work early and baked and saw some friends and had a rehearsal. I even got my bike in decent working condition at the school co-op for free.