If anyone can find the gong, I would like to strike it now.

Today I had a doctor's appointment. I bike there furiously, feeling awesome, because I am riding very fast on my tough-looking mountain bike, and I am wearing an Army jacket, tight pants, and a skateboarding helmet. I am so fierce!  Also, I am lost! Where is the office? I look at the address I have written on my hand. Then I look up at the abandoned building in front of me. The addresses match. I check the one on my hand a few more times, just in case anything changes. Further confirming the building's abandonment is the construction paper over the windows, highlighted by the "For Lease" sign.

Rejected now, I stare aimlessly. I call two friends. I hop on my bike. I ask a woman with a baby carriage. She kindly gives me directions to a random clinic that is not my clinic. By the time I find the actual office, I am very late for my appointment. Grateful, I push toward it, noticing a car speeding toward me at the last minute. As I propel backward to get out of the way, I hit a curb and fall down. I am sprawled out on the pavement. A group of men with scavenging carts across the street laugh. The driver stops and says, "are you OK?" I reassure him — it is a question not worth asking.

In the waiting room, a girl sitting near the windows slides over until she is sitting next to me. I assume this is because there is an appealing women's health calendar or snappy magazine to snatch up, but when I look over, she is actually reading my health forms. I decide she has every right to know about my medical history. And anyway, the people at the clinic are rad upon taking my forms, but I am still late, and my appointment is canceled.

As I ride home, an SUV pulls up next to me; the driver, a man in a suit, rolls down the window and passive aggressively tells me to "be more careful." I am not sure what he is talking about, because I am stopped at the red light like a law-abiding citizen. But still, because my last conversation was about pelvises, I appreciate his overall concern. Bolstered by this citizen support of my personal health and safety, I decide to ride straight home, which is where I remember how all my furniture is covered in tin foil because my cat is incontinent.