For the last few weeks it has been raining jobbies. I had applied to some in February and was getting suspicious that my phone was still silent. I should have known Mardi Gras was no time to be searching for jobs, because towards mid-March I was getting phone calls and some interviews. Albeit there was one job scam I thwarted, and I also had a bike accident that halted my energy, but overall it was a productive month including an article I published for Nola Defenders.
Everything was going well until that turn. Last week I headed to the CBD wearing my helmet, and decided to turn on St. Charles, possibly the worst idea of the week. My wheel got caught in one of the exposed rails where you could see the cement floor had parted and was protruding over the rails. My bike was wheezing by but couldn’t make it over and I fell on my left side and hit my head. I could see the gray cement for blocks. I quickly got up and the pain didn’t begin until I stepped on the sidewalk. I heard people from afar asking, “Are you ok?” I had little bright lights flashing above my eyes. No cars passed by. I noticed I had a big scrape on my left knee as a guy in a suit approached me. “Are you sure you’re ok?” He asked. I was alive if that’s what he meant, and functional to a certain degree. I walked over to Gravier St, locked my bike and went to CVS to get band-aids and Neosporin. I had some clean napkins to subside the bleeding, though it wasn’t a whole lot but it was still noticeably bloody.
My scrape is still healing but at least I’m past the terrible pain phase. After everything was over I noticed that I also had bruises on both of my legs. The second day after the fall random headaches appeared that have faded by now, and it made me suspicious about how well I could function. I read somewhere that if you hit your head hard enough you can lose your memory or your personality may change. Days after I was noticeably tired and easily distraught, I also didn’t have much energy. I couldn’t pay attention when reading. I even found the smooth radio voices irritating. A couple of days after I went to an improv show, which had the opposite effect on me. Leaving my house was refreshing on its own and the laughs along with a strawberry beer made me feel relieved. Now I’m slowly starting to get back in action though yesterday was somewhat a lazy day, and only slightly productive with freelance work. Ever since I fell that day on St. Charles I’m less motivated to do anything but I know I have to push on.
Medicine: laughs and a strawberry beer.