August 10, 2000
Everything's been moving so fast lately. There's so much I want to do, but I never seem to have time to do it. I turn around and it's 8:00 and I'm still at my desk.
Human Resources sent around a Career Development survey and they asked what my goals were in ten years. Truly? I want to be writing a novel in the Florida Keys, eating fresh peaches and nursing my newborn.
I'm just tired. Very tired.
There's so much on this earth to see and experience, and I'm spending my life in front of a computer screen.
Here's the story of the traffic accident:
Quick and I were headed over to the new movie theater. It's such a luxury being able to walk to the movies. We were crossing the street, and a car stopped to let us by. I waved and headed into the crosswalk, trying to judge whether I could beat the SUV coming in the other direction.
Quick screamed, "Eliza!" and then there was this car in front of me where there hadn't been one before. A blur of maroon. Steel. I held out my hands, I felt the impact, I was up, and then I was down. On the pavement. Stunned. My leg hurt. Quick was beside me.
"Call an ambulance!" she yelled, she put her arms around me. I couldn't understand why she was so upset. I was okay, stunned, my leg hurt a little. A lot. I wanted to get up. But they wouldn't let me.
Quick was hovering over me like a black swan, her arms soft on my face. She was crying and kissing me, and shouting all at once.
And there were other people, too. A man in a Buick, standing over me, with a cell phone. Someone else, a black man in a white shirt. "Don't get up, sweetie," he was saying. "Stay put. Just until the ambulance comes."
"Did she hit her head?" someone asked.
"She bolted!" I heard a woman say. "She ran in front of my car!"
I started to cry. Then two fire trucks pulled up and I started to laugh. Were they going to put me out?
And then another woman was standing behind me, holding my head still. I wanted to turn my head to see her, but she wouldn't let me. Ten million times, they asked me, did I remember it, was I conscious? Did I lose consciousness? Did I hit my head? What was my name. Who was Quick. What happened.
I hit the car, I told them. I was crossing the street and I hit the car.
They put my neck in a brace and strapped me down to a board and put me in the ambulance.
Quick was arguing with the woman who drove the maroon car. "I don't care if you are an attorney!" the woman yelled.
"That's a human being there!" Quick yelled back.
And there was a cop too, asking the woman for her license.
We were going to the movies, I told the paramedics in the ambulance.
This is a different kind of movie, they said.