September 14, Tuesday

When the elevator doors slid open, my former roommate Kristina stood there, her expression a mixture of concern and irritation.  She stepped inside the car firing lasers from her eyeballs.

The doors closed, and I pushed the button to take us to the top floor.  “What?  I had another appointment, like you asked.”

She held up a piece of paper.  “I know.  You told them I was high?”

“I told them I was high.”

“But they think you’re me!”

I sighed.  “It doesn’t matter because it’s not true.  You know weed isn’t my thing.”

“Or mine,” she said.  “But now they think it is!  Do you know what would happen if this leaked out to my clients?  Or to the Georgia Bar Association?”

I grimaced.  “I didn’t think of that.”

She closed her eyes and moved her lips—counting to ten?  When she opened her eyes, she sighed.  “Virginia, you’re thin and pale… and you’re obviously not thinking straight.  I read in the newspaper you’re involved in a murder investigation?  What’s that about?”

I scoffed.  “I’m not a suspect—I got the case reopened.  I owe it to the woman.”

She wet her lips.  “Is this the ghost you told the doctor you’d been seeing?  No, wait—maybe you’re planning to time travel and solve the murder yourself?”

When she put it that way, I did sound a little… insane.

As we began our descent, she pressed her fist to her mouth.  “Virginia, I think you should go in for a full physical and mental workup.”

I nodded.  “My health insurance kicks in the first of October.  I’ll go, I promise.”

Her expression softened.  “If you don’t, I’m going to call your parents and tell them what’s going on.”

The doors opened to the lobby and she marched off.  I didn’t think my parents would care one way or the other, but I got the point.

I might not be well.  ~