Hello? Hey Angie no—don’t worry Angie, I can lend you the money. No don’t worry about paying me back it’s ok. Well I couldn’t stand by and watch you lose your house. Ok. I’ll deposit the money in your account tomorrow. Yep I’m fine, just tired. Umm kiss the boys for me make sure. (She hangs up phone, and it rings again.) Hey Donna I wanted to talk to you about—Oh Davey’s in the hospital again. Don’t worry that kid is a trooper. Give him some Wheaties and a plate of Mom’s cornmeal dumplings and that kid will be fine. (pause) Well when you have some time we can get together. Hang on the other line, ok I’ll let you go. (She answers the other line.) Hello? Yes Mr. Walters I closed the deal. I’ll have the report on your desk Monday morning. (pause) No it’s not a problem, I’ll come in. You’ll have it on your desk by noon tomorrow. You have a goodnight sir. (She hangs up phone looking defeated.) Bastard! Oh do I mind working on a Sunday. Well if you have just worked seventy-four hours for the week hey what’s another ten! (She sighs.) Try walking into a room full of stuffy old white men in outdated expensive suits. You know, the old boys network, and try explain to them, MNAs, derivatives, calls, stocks and bonds—and then comes the looks and the unspoken questions and the polite question. “Where did you study?” Just checking to make sure the Black girl’s got a high school diploma. Then when I tell them I got a PhD in economics from Yale, either it shuts them the fuck up or gets them hard. All of a sudden I’m not the hired help, but a good exotic lay. And naturally I’m supposed to jump at the chance, because of course I’ve slept my way to the top. Or I am the lucky recipient of affirmative action, employment equity or some old White man’s guilt. A little old man who maybe thought he needed some colour in his office when getting his morning coffee. But not too much colour. Don’t be acting too Black because then they have to deal with my blackness every day. So I put my blackness or lack of blackness in some women of colour box to make you more comfortable. I’m tired of dealing with them and them not wanting to see me! Trying to always prove myself. Pulling sixteen hours days, skipping lunches, not knowing it was actually ok for me to leave the office and go home. Because I had to prove to them that I could do this! I could do this! I could do my job! Sherelle can do it! Of course Sherelle can! I can do everything! (beat) And if not my job, it’s Mom, Donna, and Angie. You know the family shit! Everyone needs something from Sherelle. Cause she’s got it all. The great job. No kids. Single by choice. The great house. The fancy car. Everyone wants to be me, except me. So if your husband leaves you call Sherelle, she’ll know what to do. Your kid is sick or skipping school call Sherelle, she’ll know what to do. You run out of money, call Sherelle! Mom, needs a drive to No Frills, call Sherelle! You want a friggin report on your desk Sunday not Monday, call Sherelle! I’m tired of looking after everyone. Being the responsible one. The good one. The one with all the answers, the level headed one. (two beats) Mom calls me the glue. She says that I’m the one who keeps this family together. (beat) So would it be ok for me to just fall apart sometime? How would you handle it if I told you that I get scared sometimes. Lonely. Empty. If I was weak could you hold me up, glue me together, patch me up, so I could deal with my shit and your shit too! Cause I’m falling apart you know! I’m disappearing. I can’t believe I’m still walking. (beat) My legs fell off three months ago you know? My arm just disappeared last week. And yesterday I reached for my coffee and my fingers dropped off one by one and nobody noticed. Nobody noticed I was gone. Just gone… And today I spoke and I couldn’t hear me! I couldn’t hear my voice! I couldn’t hear me! So you see I’m not really here you see and nobody noticed… (two beats) I was tired! I couldn’t do this! I couldn’t be everything! I couldn’t—and it’s not really that I wanted to die, I just wanted to take a rest. A long needed rest. But nobody would let me. They wouldn’t let me! (two beats) I wouldn’t let me…