Now it’s my turn to snort-laugh. “Yeah, I’m still like that. I go to the gym every morning. Sometimes I swim at night or go on a run. So I guess you could say I have trouble being still.”
I like that Abby remembers things about me, that she still seems to understand me in a way that took me years to grasp.
“And here I am, living ten minutes from the house I grew up in, in the same job I’ve had for eleven years. I’m at the edge of change, digging my heels in to keep things the same, even if it kills me.”
She mutters the last bit into her drink, maybe thinking I won’t hear it.
“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic,” I say. “Even if it kills you?”
She sets her drink down, her gaze lingering on the near-empty glass. She makes a noise that could be a laugh, but it’s forced and dark. “It’s twofold, I guess. My migraines have gotten worse as work has gotten more stressful, and since not enough people who can make any real change care if people walk into schools with guns…I mean, I literally could die at my job. I guess any of us could die anywhere at any time, but it feels…particularly unsafe these days.”
She pauses to gulp down the rest of her drink. “Sorry, that was kinda dark.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m glad you felt like you could tell me. It never even occurred to me to think about that.”
I pause before continuing to give weight to the moment. I’m not sure what to say, but I want her to know that what she says matters to me, so I give her words the space they deserve.
“If you did leave, what would you do?”
She peeks at me through her eyelashes, then lowers her gaze, tucking her hair behind her ear and scratching absently at her neck. Her chin dips to her chest, and she shrugs. She definitely has an answer to my question.
“I don’t know. I—I was accepted to a graphic design program at a local community college.”
“You’d go back to school? Abby, that’s amazing. When would you start?”
She chews on her bottom lip, her face scrunched like she’s in mental turmoil over something. “In August. They need to know by July first.”
That’s in two weeks.
“You haven’t said yes? Why not?”
“Remember, the health insurance thing?”
“Can you teach and do like a night school program?”
She shakes her head. “Not with my migraines. I don’t have the spoons for it,” she says.
“The spoons?”
“With chronic pain, I only have so many spoons—only so much energy to do things. So if I have no migraine day, no pain, no other symptoms, something like brushing my teeth might only cost me one spoon. But on a day when I have pain, depending on how much pain or if I have any other symptoms, brushing my teeth might cost two spoons. I don’t know how many spoons I need for a graphic design program, but I know that right now, at the end of my days, I don’t have a lot of spoons left, and so I use them for things like seeing Hazel or my parents, and making myself meals to freeze so when I have migraines, I’m not just eating crackers and peanut butter. I’m already just skating by; I don’t think I could take on anything else.”
It’s hard to swallow around the lump in my throat. I knew from our college days that sometimes her migraines kept her from doing things, that even if she didn’t have pain, she’d be recovering from the migraine and her energy would be low. She pushed through a lot of things, though, and I suspect she downplayed her pain or energy levels a lot of times. It sounds like she’s taking better care of herself, but it also still sounds like a lot to deal with.
“Okay, no night school. So you’d have to leave your job.” I ask, “Is it just health insurance holding you back? There’s non-work sponsored options—I’ve helped some of my guys figure out what they needed. I can help you if you— I’m not trying to, like, step in and fix anything, I just…”
I like helping. I like helpingyou.
“No, I know, I appreciate it. It’s not just that. It feels…selfish.”
“Selfish?”
“I don’t know, it’s just like…what’s the point? I’m doing good work. I’m educating young minds and inspiring the next generation. To leave and go do what? Make logos for businesses?”
“I think you’re underselling how important that is.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I have a logo for my business and that was a hell of a lot harder of a process than I thought it would be. The guy I worked with talked a lot about brand and identity. The logo he made me feels like a reflection of who I am and what my business is. It’s not educating the next generation, but it is important.”
