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simplicity in the city
6 years ago
Tales of an American woman living life north of the border.
I was at some sort of conference where I had missed a few sessions and I found that I no longer existed on the lists of the organizers. Even the pushpin on the map that represented me was gone. So after putting the pushpin back where it goes...but not a white one or a red one...I headed out into the main corridor of the mall-type place where the offices for the conference organizers were. I saw many older people mall-walking and then a gang of 40-something red-t-shirt wearing cool guys walked by. They were quietly strutting their stuff and were led by this guy who was the 40-something version of the first guy I kissed in high school. Then I left the mall.Then I woke up, cried a just a little, was comforted by Bo, felt the baby move and confirmed that my ankles were normal-sized. All is good.
I found myself in a very rural area. The dirt roads were bumpy with muddy tractor tracks and yet there was a bus stop for STM bus 96. I considered waiting for the bus so I could head back to the city, but it was nice out so I decided to walk to the next farthest bus stop instead. I found myself walking amongst a group of women who were headed to the bus on their daily commute to the city for work. They were dressed in various combinations of black and were pulling wheeled suitcases behind them. They were bitchy. They were painfully slowly tiptoeing their way on the edges of the road trying to avoid the muddy spots so as to not soil their polished fancy shoes. I had on my sensible Keen sandals. About then I realized in a panic that I did not have my bus pass nor my wallet so I started walking back towards the village (? the place where the mall was). I wanted to call Bo and I saw ahead of me a farm that I was familiar with (not any farm that I actually know). Some people waved me over and I asked if I could use the phone. They motioned me towards a door where a very large fake blond woman said she would dial for me. She misdialed the first number and because Bo's number wasn't printed on some list that she had, she wouldn't make another call to the right number.
As I was trying to persuade her, I glanced down at my feet and they were horrifically swollen, which as any good pregnant woman knows, is a sign of preeclampsia and you need to get urgent medical attention. I asked the woman if she would at least call 911 for me. She begrudgingly obliged, told me that no one was answering and then put her head down on her desk and went to sleep. So there I was stuck in the middle of nowhere with preeclampsia.