Today was just one of those days.
So dead-tired in the morning I couldn't even wake myself long enough to hit snooze. Just let the alarm ring every 5 minutes for half an hour as I tried to pull myself from that sobbing dream I have so much--the one where everything inside of me is breaking and all I can do is cry to the one I love, who is leaving me.
Finally pulled myself up and brushed my teeth. Took my sweet-ass time making lunch; even ate some breakfast cuz I didn't eat any yesterday. Or dinner, for that matter.
Thought about the long walk to the bus stop, checked my watch and decided to drive. Hopped in the car and tried to psych myself into my day; threw the jumper cables on and tried to get my engine going. Today, that meant beating down those self-injurious visions; quelling the urge to cut, strangle, shoot, drown; commending myself for renting a spot with a low ceiling and no fan; thanking my lucky stars that I could never own a gun.
Pulled out the alley, drove up the street, and remembered the one I love loving me once, up this same path. Tried hard not to miss her. Tried not to feel that pain on top of the shit I was already dealing with.
Stopped my car on the curb about half a mile from home. Cops had to approach me from BOTH sides of my vehicle.
"Sir, could you please turn off your engine? Are you aware that under California law, section BLAH BLAH BLAH it's illegal to stop beyond the painted line? Back there you stopped at the curb, not at the line. Can I see your license and registration?"
Popped open the glove compartment, got out my wallet, and pulled em out. "Sir, that's not your registration."
"Yes it is."
"No, sir, that's a license plate renewal form. Please give me your registration."
Panicked a little, but tried not to show it. How could that NOT be my registration? I always thought it was. But I've never been pulled over before. Proceeded to pull out every piece of paper from EVERY compartment my car had. Even tried the trunk. Flipped through EVERYTHING once, twice, three times, then four, all under her watchful eye, as her partner ran my Missouri plates back at their car.
Then it came: "MA'AM? What are you doing out here? Are you visiting somebody?"
Fuck me, my Missouri license, my brown face and my trans identity.
"I work at UCLA," I whispered. "I'm headed to work."
"MA'AM, Do you live around here?"
"Two streets over."
"Are you staying with a friend, MA'AM?"
"No, I rent a place." My voice kept getting smaller.
"How do you mean, you rent a place?"
"I signed a lease."
"For how long?"
Gave him my address. Signed the damn thing saying I'd appear in court; got cited for failure to stop at the line and for failure to carry my registration (it WAS my registration. Verified that shit on the internet).
Got to work an hour later than if I'd just walked to the damn bus stop.
Work was marginally better. Kept dropping things and forgetting things, still had that "you're worthless" voice in the back of my mind, but managed to throw a surprise party, dig up lost papers, and find a Notary Public who could verify that a Hebrew to English translation was accurate. Just had me swear that it was right "so help me god."
But today was a "she" day. Don't usually hear these folks slip up, but today was something else. It was "sheImeanHe" this and "sheHeshe" that. Got through okay, though, and only worked 3 hours overtime. Left the office at 8:55 and RAN to catch the bus by 8:59...
Well, I woulda caught it...if it didn't leave a minute early. Instead I watched it pull away, chased it futilely for three blocks, and finally resigned myself to walking the mile and a half to where I'd parked my car this morning.
It was a good walk. Couple of white folks found the need to cross over to the sidewalk on the other side of the street to assuage their fears of being stalked by me. Started walking faster behind them on purpose--just to fuck with em--then stopped abruptly at my car and stared them down so they'd know how stupid they looked.
Got in the car and drove EXTRA carfully. No radio, no nothin. Just had to make it back and shake it off. Trying to remember that it was just one of those days.