All the Eternal Love I Have

"Do you have any resume paper?"
The sound of the text from a former co-worker woke me up.  It was 6:15 in the morning.

I jumped in the car at 4:45 in the morning and drove to my mom's house.  She was having knee replacement surgery and needed to be at the hospital by 5:30.  We arrived on time.  The waiting room was dingy and the fluorescent lights flickered.  Someone had carved their initials (P.J.) in the wood column in the middle of the room.  Someone else added "BLOOD" to the column.  I felt nervous while they wheeled my mom to the back.  I left and drove back to my mom's house to let her dogs out.  One sat by her bedroom door, refusing to move.

"We would like to offer you a position!"  the email read.  I was back at the hospital, in the recovery room with my mom.   I had been unemployed one day.
"Thanks, but I'm good."  I responded.
My phone started blowing up with calls from two other districts.  I felt flattered, but overwhelmed.  I ended up with job interviews scattered throughout my first week out of work, woven between visits to my mom's house to take care of her dogs.  I felt like I had to strike when the iron was hot, but felt like screaming CAN'T YOU ALL JUST GIVE ME A MINUTE???

I sat in the front office of the school, watching a Sheriff deliver papers and parents pick up kids that were being sent home for bad behavior.  A social worker was walking around.
"WHENEVER the doctor makes me take an antibiotic...."  the woman next to me said loudly into her phone.
"He gives me the pill AND the cream.  THAT did not happen.  And NOW, I must see him immediately."
I had never heard a person so publicly discuss a yeast infection in my life.

I sat outside on the patio of a bar with friends, on a school night.  I did not have another interview until 1:30 the next day.  It was nice to be out, to not have to think of teaching school the next day.  To not have to put on my monkey suit job interview costume until later.

I saw a boy riding up in the distance, a boy with cornrows.  I taught him years ago, and several other members of his family.  It was late, but his dad wasn't really known for supervision.

I extended my hand and he stretched out his as he rode by, touching for a second, then he continued into the night.

*Title, derivative of Yayoi Kusama