I hope the disability content didn't get this rejected.
hideousness with gratitude; years of work have brought me here.
“Hey,” Sangit’s low-key voice over my phone was equal parts relief and frustration. “What’s up? I’m guessing the update I put in yesterday isn’t going well?”
I wished I’d used some of my skills to learn how to punch a good friend through the phone. I made a fist with the hand that wasn’t holding the phone and halfway wished he could see it. Instead, I smiled wryly, “I guess you could say that.” At least, the nausea was receding, replaced with a papery parchedness. I drained what was left in my water bottle, but my head still wasn’t clear.
“Oh, don’t let it get you down…we’ve come such a long way.” Sanjit soothed. Vaguely, I thought, if I were going to die, maybe I should Tell him that the reason his voice cheered me up had little to do with his motivational skills. Surely being dead would blow up the partnership more than being lovelorn. Still, even if my equipment kept working, dating me was not like picking up the carefree young girls my partner favored during his rare hours off.
“Sometimes it doesn’t seem that way,” I said, deciding to save more heartfelt disclosures for another day.
I couldn’t decide how much it bothered me that he laughed. He had a great laugh, but my sense of humor was at a low ebb like my energy, but he said “Remember when we tried that prototype on your mother and she thought she was in Downton Abbey?”
“Watching her curtsy to a mop was pretty funny,” I admitted, though it felt like a lifetime ago, rather than eleven months. The hotel lobby was filling up; thanks to my obsessive punctuality, I had extra time to navigate without considering other conventioneers. I saw a few people I knew, but the moment I finished speaking to them, I couldn’t remember what we talked about. “Good to see you again!” I tried to put a lot of energy in, but it felt hollow. Maybe everyone was doing the same, except for some recent grad who was high off the per diem and getting away from some small town. I wished I could be her again. I could get through all this on Red Bull and ambition in those days. Not knowing what was coming meant I faced more situations without fear. As the sweat on my forehead dried, I pretended that my brain had a sort of closet that I could shove my fear and doubt into. The imaginary door stayed closed, but just barely.
“I’m hanging up now,” Sanjit said, like the cool babysitter forced to finally lay down the law. “Remember, you’ve got this.” He paused, and I heard him swallow. Was he having lunch? The man I imagined him to be would be on tenterhooks with me, I fumed irrationally. “Worse comes to worse, we can uninstall it and try again…I could do it remotely if I had to.”
“No!” my voice came out in a thwarted teenage squeal that I had to bring years of maturity to. “No, I mean, I think we won’t have to face that.”
“Good.” My partner sounded relieved. “Let me hear how much you’ve got this, then.”
I stuck out my chin and took a deep-enough breath to flirt with a wardrobe malfunction. I looked up as if daring strangers to take my ideas
No comments:
Post a Comment