No One Runs Out of Gas in the A.M. like I Do

No one runs out of gas like I do. Maybe it's for the thrill, or maybe for the adrenaline. Perhaps I just don't like getting out of my car once I'm in it. The empty light comes on at a quarter. Passengers get nervous at the empty line. I feel exhilarated once I can see the slightest gap between the gauge doohickey and the empty line. Any minute, I tell myself. Any minute now my heart will start beating. No one runs out of gas like I do.

No one goes to the emergency room like I do. Tonight was Roommate Melissa's birthday. I got to light the candles. Halfway through, the lighter went out. I tried lighting it. Ow. Tried lighting it again. Oooh that kind of hurts. Tried lighting it again, holding my thumb to the searing hot metal. This is probably hurting me, I should stop. I used other candles to finish instead. The pain and the blisters and the water-under-tap-til-no-sensation-left started a few minutes later. Hospital. Alone. Nothing they can do. Ah! But it is Percocet! Percocet my old friend! It's no longer a choice between drinking or driving because you take both away from me. You know it's bad when the triage lady recognizes me. And when I start talking to the drugs. No one goes to the emergency room like I do.

No one enjoys the small things like I do. My brother graduated today. I attended his valedictory ceremony. Giggling. Girls with no idea how to walk in heels. Teachers with no idea how to speak. French that wasn't saying what I thought it was saying. Anecdotes and quotes I've heard a thousand times. Woman beside me watching her son cross the stage on her video camera, over and over again. Smiling at people I graduated with who were there for the same reason. 17 year olds smiling at me. My brother looking like he'd fallen asleep in his chair on stage, when really he just had his head sown so he could swing the dangly hat thingy in circles. A girl in an absolutely see-through dress posing with family members. A boy who wants to be an astronaut and a girl who didn't need to say she already plans to sell herself. No one enjoys the small things like I do.