Back 3 a.m.
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  67. 3:46 a.m.

I’d done a quick background on both the lead actors, Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones, but found nothing from either actor’s past that leapt out at me.

I didn’t know much about pop culture. Was there a clue somewhere I just didn’t get? Was The Fresh Prince of Bel Air supposed to mean something to me? Maybe I didn’t have the worldly experience to connect the dots.

I stop and look at my cell phone.

It’s 3:48 a.m.

I turn around and head back home.

It’s 3:56 a.m. when I return to the condo.

Lassie is nowhere to be found, but I have faith he’ll make his way home. I leave the door open for him. I drink water until my stomach hurts, then head to the bedroom. I don’t have time for a shower, but I don’t want to sleep in my sweaty clothes and strip down naked.

Lying in bed, I reopen Ingrid and my text thread.

I’m about to start typing, to tell her that I miss her and that I can’t wait to see her again, when it hits me.

Her last text.

DON’T GET SUCKED INTO MEN IN BLACK 2. NEVER SAW IT, BUT IT GOT TERRIBLE REVIEWS.

That was it.

Reviews.

I jump out of bed and run to the computer.

I log into Amazon and search Men in Black. There are 517 reviews. I scroll down to the bottom. The second to last review was written on October 2nd.

The day my mother was killed.

And it was written by me.

:07

The last time I fell asleep in the chair at the kitchen table was four years earlier, the night before General Motors’ post-government bailout IPO. I was waffling back and forth, deciding whether or not I wanted to buy shares. At 3:58 a.m., I decided not to buy and stood up to go to bed, but then at the last second I changed my mind and rushed back to the computer. I was unable to get the purchase scheduled in time — five thousand shares — and I woke up twenty-three hours later with a QWERTY impression on my forehead.

In regards to the stock, I lucked out. Though the IPO was the biggest in history, the stock fell thirty-five percent the first year and I would have lost my ass. That being said, I would have gladly taken the loss if it meant I made it to my bed that night, as I spent nearly the equivalent of that amount on a physical therapist and chiropractor who both charged me exorbitant amounts to make 3:00 a.m. house calls.

I take three deep breaths and try to lift my head off the kitchen table. I can’t. Every muscle in my body is frozen solid. I try to wiggle my toes but I can’t even feel them.

This is bad.