June 2nd
Touch; Mosquito's are back this summer already.
June 6th
June 9th
June 14th
June 16th
Sound; A constant ringing phone, that and a snoring husband.
Sight; New faces
Taste; Arby's.
Smell; Tell me why my cat's refuse to potty train.
June 23,
2000
Another day, another dollar.
I am the bowl smoker, are you the fire keeper? Adam can still make me laugh.
Finally, a Friday. I hoped to spend more time smoothing the ass grove in the couch down about 3 more inches, but I'm my landlord's whore. That and I have a nasty addiction to crop pants and Caribou Coffee depth charges, it was either work or get on the unemployment line. Not that I'm above unemployment reimbursement, I just happen to have an extraordinary amount of pride when it comes to that sort of thing. Funny, I can be that uppity about welfare and employment checks, but you can see me holding my hand against the tail end of a toilet paper roll trying desperately to get a lung full of the tinfoil bowl's contents. That or tampon paper. Works in a pinch.
My new job, of which I will speak little, is decent. It's an in-between to draw a check. It was either take this one immediately or be broke for another week. Which would you choose? I've done more work for less money, is that discreet enough? It'll have to do. The building that I work in is incredible though, it's a restored old hotel. I sit at my desk and try to think of what happened in this very spot when it was one of the most popular hotels so long ago. I just know there was a bed where I'm sitting, I'm picking up that juju. Some prim and proper lady may have had discreet affairs during her otherwise routine day of the society wife. The secret lovers, partaking of the love that dare not speak it's name slowly kissing one last time before leaving five minutes apart for the elevator, the typical womanizing good old boy grabbing the "colored maid's" ass and not thinking twice about it. There's an extraordinary amount of history, some pretty some not, and I soak in it.
I have to touch on this subject, much as I hate to. Knowing the broader audience that is reading me right now on a regular basis, then stack on top of that the handful of people from my old company, I've hesitated to update recently. I have things to say, and I don't particularly feel like having my old coworkers know these things. At the same time, I'm finally receiving recognition for the near year of hard work and seven or eight incarnations of The Delta. I'm pulled back to one edge and then another. Write and inhibitions be damned, or quit and hide away from potential embarrassment. For those of you who know a bit about me, the solution is obvious. I have to continue this if only to face a fear, it's that simple. Inhibitions be damned.
Last week I was talking to my father's wife and I'm not sure what got us to this point but she was saying how she didn't go out in the evening anymore because…"that's when shit happens." She's absolutely right. I'm nervous at night now, much more than when I was younger, I used to be fearless. Walk the street by the Lakewood Marta station where they found Julie Love's body in my sweatpants, a sports bra, and no shoes, AND at midnight? Why not?!? Get drunk in a park in the wee hours of the morning with no one else but a group of 14 year old girls and run around with our tops off? You bet! Now? It takes a half hour of gumption gathering to make me drive to Krystal at one in the morning. Which I did twice last week, and even then I was watching my back the whole time (on my behalf I have to add that the Krystal is in a really shitty area. On the other side of the coin I want to slap myself for falling into that mentality. Don't go out at night because that's when things happen. Deliver me! I need a topless midnight romp in Piedmont Park to slough off this paranoid skin.
I have received an extraordinary amount of messages that I need to reply to, and if Adam doesn't kick me off his computer when he gets back from Arby's I'll be doing so soon. It pissed me off that he went to Arby's. I made extra at dinner last night so we could have leftovers tonight instead of me cooking, and he scampers off to Arby's to spend unwarranted cash. It is a small thing though, and I no longer feel the need to yell at him. My modem is fried, so I have no choice but to work on his newer, faster, bigger monitored, better keyboard computer. It's out of my hands. Heh.
I did watch girl, interrupted last week like I mentioned. It was a little bit of good and a little bit of bad. See it but ignore Winona Ryder and Angelina Jolie. Focus instead of the crazy ass chicks they've got making up the supporting cast.
I will not be spending as much time ignoring my page as I have been recently. My phone went schizo and wouldn't register the line a hung up after the call was finished. So we have no phone, we use the answering machine to find out who called and then use the cell to call them back. It's a huge pain in the ass and our bill will skyrocket as a result. We just need to buy a new one. Or you could send me yours? How about it?