1:55 p.m. - 2007-11-24
Sat, Nov 24-Banana Muffins , chicken and grants
Banana Muffins- Mom'll be home late.
Shop by myself, wear a black hat.
It's cold out and the hills look bigger.
Radiant sky, warm fried chicken.
20 bucks for a new spinny toothbrush?
Filled out a Big Y application- need the money.
We can make this work. We don't have a choice.
The paper has an add for becoming a foster parent. The pay is good.
But how would that work?
Is the guy across the street moving out? It seems he sold all his appliances.
He has sacks of junk sitting on his stoop.
I need to tidy up my desk. All these wrappers.
The sylph painting isn't good enough.
Busy weekend, why didn't that guy use the crosswalk? He was old enough to know better, you'd think, maybe he spent all his energy tying his tie and pressing his suit.
Step out into traffic, almost become
black-suited roadkill with a bloody briefcase.
Belgian chocolate seahorses
make me feel fat. Damn them for little
molded temptresses.
Clementines. Clementines! It's been a while. Sophie seems glad to smell you.
My hair isn't as red as it could be.
Buffy-a-thon tonight? Still on season 1. No Spike. Chicken for dinner, too.
Chicken and stake.
Late afternoon, walking Soph. The air is cold in my throat. I think my face is freezing. The bird-lady rakes dead leaves from her lawn.
My knees ache. I do yoga and pilates half-hearted, counting the seconds. Jump on the elliptical trainer and watch America's next top model; Think of that second piece of fried chicken waiting for my dinner.
Omi calls. Bonding about money troubles. Art grants? Writing grants? Business grants? It's not really that simple. I need to make some tea.
0 comments
