So Fight Club

8:30 - alarm clock bleeps. It's one of those "smart" alarm clocks that bleeps louder and louder the longer you let it go on. Everything's "smart" these days though, like food and cars. One day we're going to make something that's smarter than we are and then we'll be in trouble.

8:39 - alarm clock bleeps again. Every muscle in my body screams and acid runs through my veins as I turn to slam the snooze button. Heroine junkies understand. Lupus victims understand. This is the kind of pain your body inflicts on you because she hates you wants you to die.

8:48 - alarm clock bleeps. I'm fast this time. It goes off before it gets a chance to raise its ugly shrill voice. HAH!

9:01 - alarm clock bleeps. I need to take a shower. I didn't get home til 1 a.m. last night and passed out. Dance class ended at 10 p.m. I had to wait at the corporate condo with all the salesguy after their poker game - $50 sit-in, $150 for 3rd, $200 for 2nd, $300 for 1st. A good sized pot for a bunch of single guys with large disposable incomes. I don't have keys for the apartment (lost them), and Ryan was at his mom's fixing her laptop. He didn't pick me up til well after midnight.

9:10 - alarm clock bleeps. Michaelangelo made it look so easy when he spun on his shell (the Ninja Turtle, not the artist). Maybe if I had a turtle shell, it would make it easier. Basically, how you do a back spin is you sit with your left leg straight out, and your right leg tucked in from the side (side split). You hold on to your right hamstring as you kick it in a wide circle across in one motion throwing your body to its side and following that motion with your left leg kicking in the same direction while scrunching your body into a tight little ball so that you spin balanced on the space between your shoulder blades. It's all in the propeller motion of your legs - the more strength you put into your kick, the faster you'll spin. Kinda like figure skating.

9:19 - alarm clock bleeps. I'm awake now so I can turn off the alarm clock. Lying in bed, I can feel every bone on my body that had made unhealthy contact with the dance floor last night. The outsides of my thighs. Two spots on the back of my hips. My elbows. The muscles around my forearm and armpits are swollen from trying to do The Worm.

9:25 - in the shower. I've never been in a real fight before. I've wanted to though. Once in grade 6, this boy Andrew and I were arguing and I was so angry, my face turned red and we were pushing each other in the snow. Then the bell rang and we went back inside and I didn't talk to him for the rest of the day. He used to get into fights with other boys. He and this boy Lou from the younger class fought behind the playground. Everyone went to watch, and even though I went, I couldn't watch. Physical violence is so distastful to me. And yet, I wonder what it would be like to hit someone. Smack them with my knuckles across their face and watch the little splash of blood fly from their mouth all slow-mo like in movies. I wonder what flesh feels like under such an impact. Will it really feel like I'm hitting another human being, or will it feel like warm wet clay? Sometimes when I'm really angry with someone, I daydream about kicking the living shit out of them. Yet I know I could never do it. Fighting like boxing or karate is exercise. Like Tae-Bo or kick-boxing. I'd do it. But fist-fighting out of hatred or spite - that's just tacky.

9:59 - riding bike to work. Work starts at 10:00 a.m.

10:05 - at work. I feel like I'm 80 years old. It's going to be a long day.