What's Wrong With This Girl?

Here's an exercise I dreamt up on the train on the way to work. Suppose the following essay was written by someone who has a physical disability. By reading "between the lines," can you figure out what her disability is?

Assignment 1: My Mornings
by a girl who recently moved to Berkeley who isn’t Beth

I just began a journal writing class. The first assignment is to describe in detail your favorite part of the day. I tend to be pretty happy all the time, so I guess I’ll just choose morning, since it comes first. Well, here goes…

I love waking up in my new apartment in Berkeley. Now that it’s summer, I miss the hiss of the radiator behind my bed in the morning, but the warm sun on my face feels so good, I can still wake up without an alarm. I get up slowly and stretch – but not too hard. I’ve had a problem with leg cramps recently. Anyway, I sit up and enjoy the feeling of the wood floor on my bare feet before standing.

I don’t make my bed right away; I like to let the sheets air out. Okay, so the first thing I do is put the kettle on. The second thing is pee. After that, I might straighten things up a bit while waiting for the water to boil or just sit with the window open (if it’s a nice day) and enjoy the Berkeley breeze.

I take in a deep breath. Mmmmm… so many different flowers here: some smell sweet, like honey or even bread. Some odors are more sharp, almost an itch in my nose. I really should learn their names. When I lived in San Francisco, I knew eucalyptus and jasmine and others. Sometimes there is dust in the air from the demolition project across the street. When I first moved in, I thought we were having an earthquake every time the wrecking ball fell. Sometimes a wasp or two buzz in. They worried me in the beginning, but since they seem to stay up near the ceiling, they don’t bother me anymore.

Well, enough sitting in the window. The kettle whistles. Time for breakfast. I drink my green tea and eat my five prunes, five carrots, and some other kind of fruit. Maybe a banana or orange. Then it’s time to jump in the shower.

Can I just say that I have the best shower! My boyfriend, Michael, thinks his is better, but that’s because he’s tall, and his shower head is high up. I’m only 5’3”, and my short shower is perfect for me. I love the steaming hot water on my skin. Sometimes, it almost hypnotizes me, and I lose track of time. Especially if I’m tired. That’s why I’ve started bringing the radio into the bathroom with me. NPR keeps me awake and, I guess, somewhat informed.

When I don’t bring in the radio, I sing. I love the richness of my voice in the shower. Like a bell, almost. What causes that? The tile? The water? The small size of the room? I’ll have to ask Michael.

So anyway, I shampoo and scrub and shave. I have to be more careful shaving my legs. I keep nicking myself. Maybe I go too fast. Maybe I need a different razor. But it’s worth it. I love feeling my legs go from prickly to smooth. I love having smooth skin. That’s also why I slather myself with lotion as soon as I get out. Every part of my body – hands, legs, feet, arms, belly, breasts, face and lips. My lips get so dry. It’s strange how my body has changed over the years. It’s rounder. The skin looser. But I’m also developing muscles I never had before, thanks to my personal trainer.

Well, it’s time to get dressed. I guess I’ll leave the rest to your imagination. I’ve already written more than I was supposed to for this assignment. Anyway, as you can see, my life is not exactly exciting. But I like it.

ãElizabeth Terry
07/16/2003