TCB

Taking care of business.

It's what I'm not doing.

Seinfeld has is crippling my productivity. It has a choke hold on me. Half way through season 8 I'm relieved that it'll over soon, which could mean a return to my regular levels of procrastination, but at the same time I'm saddened. The show is simply too good.

But worse than Seinfeld is the internet.

I find myself aimlessly wandering through page after page of the same thing I've seen over and over again or just clicking at links that just keep leading to one thing and then another. Then when my internet goes out suddenly my world seems to go with it. My umbilical cord to the rest of the world is suddenly severed and I'm left a helpless baby wallowing in my own anger and sadness. Then when that cord is reconnected I'm crawling back into the womb of the information super highway. I mean how useful is a computer without internet? It's like an empty refrigerator.

The thing is that if I'm not in front of my computer then it's fine. I can go days, weeks, months without the internet I reckon...I don't actually know, but I'd like to think I can otherwise I'm a pathetic excuse for a human.

Or am I?

How different is having internet than from having a radio, television, newspaper, a phone, mail, or a group of friends. It's almost like a fix for a junkie of the 21st century. But in many ways the internet is to our generation as what the television or radio was to the last generation. It's not fair to be singled out for something like that in my mind. Jazz, rock and roll, comic books, and now video games and the internet. Everyone is looking for a scapegoat for their problems.

Deciding whether or not to destroy this virtual city or trying to figure out how the gang in Seinfeld is going to get themselves out of another pickle is mine. At least for now. It's just reality is so...hard.

Day

"Shit. How am I going to pass this French quiz? Wait...what's this joker...shit!"
My fingers scrambled for my breaks, but got tangled up. It was too late. I couldn't do anything.

Next thing I know I'm on the ground. I get up on my knees and first thing I see is my yellow banana. I grab the banana and wonder how it survived, then check my other jacket pocket for my Danimals yogurt drink. Still intact. I grab onto the unrolled window driver door and pull myself up. I feel shaky all over. My body vibrating and I can't control it.

"What the shit"

I thought to myself.

I hear, "You okay?" Some guy walking by. Doesn't even bother to stop and just keeps on walking.

"I'm going to be late for school" I said to myself.

I look over and the car is still there. Now I'm on my feet, still shaking. It's hard to stand straight and I wobble around. I feel two hands on my shoulders.

"You okay? You want to go to hopeetuhl?"

Broken English with a heavy Asian accent.

"Spend my life trying not to give Asians a bad name and this happens."

I try to push myself away from them, after all I don't really want comfort from these idiots that just pulled up right in front of me. Then again it could be my fault...shit they should still be looking. They guide, or push, me over to the curb and sit me down. They bring me my frozen water for the practice that day and I put it up against my head. I could feel the the part above my right eyebrow starting to swell. Where else should I put it? I'm shaking all over and I can't control it. I try to figure out whether it's because I'm cold or because I'm in shock. Pull out my phone. 7:20.

"Now I'm really going to be late to school..."

I debate in my mind what to do. Call my mom. Call the police. Text Gloria.

Eventually I call my mom and tell her what happened. Her voice is alarmed and tells me she'll be there.

I think a while longer wondering whether or not to tell Gloria I've been in an accident. I don't want her to worry, but at the same time she'd be worried if I didn't say anything.

So I text her.

I see a bright yellow firetruck race past me and the accident site with its sirens blaring.

"Hm...maybe I should call the cops."

Out of the corner of my eye I see Kevin. He's running across the road towards me. Asking me what happened. He can't do much and I don't expect him to, but he stays like I think a good samaritan should do.

My jaw is chattering. I still can't stop shaking.

A motorcycle cop pulls up. Kevin's mom pulls up. Jaine's mom pulls up. My mom comes down. Ambulance on the scene. The fire truck I saw race past me is now coming back. All matters of questions being asked.

Broken English to my right.

Officers talking to my left.

I recount what happened to the cop in front of me.

Paramedics check my body. Neck. Legs. Back. Put me on a stretcher and strap me in tight. Ants are crawling all over me from the grass nearby. Paramedics are swatting my body trying to get them off and finally put me in the ambulance. I hear them talking about which hospital to go to. Asking their boss or dispatcher or whoever is in charge of paramedics.

IV tube. Wince. Ouch.

I don't really know why. "Just in case," is what I get from what they were saying.

I only see the ceiling of the ambulance. I can't move my head. The guy in back with me makes small talk. I converse with him, but not really caring. Apparently I broke the window in the back door. Just wanting to think for a minute about what happened. I talk anyways all the while I hear "Staying Alive" from the radio. I feel ants biting me. More swatting.

The ride must have taken at least 30 minutes. How urgent.

I arrive and they pull me out of the ambulance and roll me through the trauma center. It's strange only being able to look at the ceiling. You just see everything roll by you. Maybe this is how Tralfamadores see life.

They pull me off the stretcher and put me on a bed. They give me a nice warm blanket.

The doc comes over and checks my body. Neck. Legs. Back. Tells me I'm fine. Get released. On my way back to school. I wonder why I hadn't some kind of epiphany or life changing experience. Maybe I'm not just that kind of guy. Or maybe that kind of stuff only happens on TV and in books. I come back half way during 3rd period. I start taking notes. I'm spelling things wrong and writing down the wrong words. I go through my day as usual except for people coming up and asking what happened.

I guess it was just another day.