While walking to work today, my mind was drifting about. I was listening to Death Cab For Cutie's cover of "Earth Angel" and thinking about Back to the Future when all of the sudden I started to move in directions I didn't like. My feet shot out from under me, and I started to fall backwards into the slush and snow-covered ice that blanketed the pavement. As I went down, I noticed the dark green Range Rover stopped on the other side of the intersection and was glad that someone got to see my go down. 'Cause falling down in the street is like drinking: it's just not that funny if you do it by yourself. So, not to draw out the suspense too much, let me just admit that gravity won our little skirmish and I ended up flat on my back in the street. I did not crack my head open, though, which is nice, but I did break my fall with my iBook again. Strangely, the iPod never even paused.
So, I'm laying in the street, and for some reason I feel compelled to make that "aww shucks" arm-pump and snap, like that's going to show the world that I'm not dead and I've still got a sense of humor about it. Really though, I just didn't want Range Rover calling 911 for me unnecessarily. I stood up, brushed myself off a bit, and then made a flourishy dismount motion with my hands and the Range Rover drove off.
All in all, I felt like a total corncob.
As I kept moving on towards work, I was eventually glad that I had not died or cracked my noggin open on the street. But, I do think if I had to do it over, I'd nix the "aww shucks" and the dismount. Instead, I think I'd rather just lie there and twitch for a bit.
As I got closer to work, though, I kept thinking about how much I'm not willing to die for my job. Or any job, for that matter. And I thought about how shitty it would be if I had made some brain-omelet trying to get to work and wound up as the 24th Oklahoman to die from the ice storm. There's something very unsettling and necessary in there, about turning the dead into numbers. I'm not sure what it is, but I did take a Loritab about an hour ago, so that's how it goes.
Anyway, the same spot of ice was waiting for me when I walked home this afternoon, still slick and hateful as ever. I imagine that it's always going to be there in one way or another, waiting in the wings to spoil me and steal my potential. Well, not literally of course, as this damn ice will eventually melt.
But you knew what I meant.
Labels: ice, job, neck injury, potential, winter
