Snack Drawer

•February 10, 2010 • 1 Comment

It’s getting late. I’ve already walked the length of this office and back three times, which isn’t much but it’s more exercise than any of the other fat asses around here get each day. I like to stay fit.

I’m the only one here now. If I sit really still the motion-sensor lights turn off so I have to frantically wave my arms around until they turn back on. Whoever thought this sustainability bullshit was going to fly has got it all wrong. Every time the lights turn off, I’m distracted, which means it’ll take me another 2 minutes to get back on track; and with the lights turning off every 15 fucking minutes, that’s 8 minutes every hour that I’m losing — and they wonder why it takes me so long to finish my work.

But hey, it’s their money. I get $10 for food if I stay past 8 pm, another $15 if I stay past 11:30 pm. It’s 1:26 now and I’m hungry again. One of the receptionists has a drawer full of snacks but it’s locked up when she’s out of the office. She doesn’t want mice getting in there, she says. Yea, right. She protects that drawer like it’s one of her cats — her precious cats. They’re displayed in framed photos that crowd her desk and then she complains she’s cramped. I’ve said she should get rid of those damn pictures then! Not like that though, of course not. I mean, I said it pretty nicely. I said it like, “Maybe if you reduced the amount of clutter on your desk, you’d have more breathing room.” Pretty damn nice, right? Bitch fucking told me to mind my own business.

Like hell I’ll mind my own business. I found the key to the snack drawer hidden inside one of her picture frames. Now her desk’s really a mess. All the pictures are out of their frames and I can’t remember which goes back where. Doesn’t matter really, I’ll just say the mice did it. Stupid bitch will probably believe me.

The snack drawer is disappointing — figures. It’s mostly chocolate-covered things and I hate chocolate. Leave it to the office bitch to bring the only snacks I don’t want to eat. I toss the key back onto her desk and turn around to return to mine. I can hear the key ricochet against one of the scattered picture frames then land with a dull thud, probably onto the carpet under her desk. Whatever, she’s a smart girl, she’ll find it. They don’t just hire anyone to be a receptionist.

Staring at the computer screen it takes me a few minutes to register where I had left off. Oh right, three more to go. Three more goddamn levels I need to beat before I can save the princess.

I’m still hungry.

For 3 more to go, see Crispy.

say that again?

•February 2, 2010 • Leave a Comment

“to wrap up this story, j and i were the loudest gals on the roof.”

i wish my neck were one inch longer, that i were a better storyteller.


death.

•December 22, 2009 • 2 Comments
Here’s my personal update since Saturday:
- Friday night I was so stressed I had diarrhea in the library – when coming out of the bathroom I bumped into L and M (the Rep kid from middle-of-nowhere Pa that I had that uncharacteristic crush on last year).  He wouldn’t stop talking to me and all of a sudden my ass made a noise!  Luckily it was small and sounded like a stomach growl.  L said she didn’t hear it – I hope she’s not lying.  But, then moments later my stomach really did grow pretty loud.  And M told me to go eat something … haha
- Saturday morning: wake up at 6 to get ready for exam.  Exam is cancelled at 7.  Go back to sleep and wake up at 11 with a COLD SORE! I kept thinking that no now I can’t kiss anyone in Ireland!!
Then I studied all day for the past two days applying abbreva followed by alcohol followed by more abbreva and it already crusted!!!!!
talk to you soooon

living

•December 20, 2009 • 1 Comment

There’s snow.

It’s snowing.

A lot.

Indeed.

What should we do?

[curious] What shall we do?

Is it should or shall?

Is what?

Is it what shall we do or what should we do?

I don’t know. What did you say?

I said should — no shall. [pause] I forget.

[with a gentle smile] Well, whatever you said originally, I’m sure that was the right one. [goes back to reading the paper]

[scoffs] You’re sweet. Patronizing. But sweet. [pause] So what should we do?

[annoyed but feigning sincerity] About what, babe?

About the snow! There’s so much of it.

Did you park the car in the garage?

Yes.

Did your son take the dog out?

Yes.

So what else needs to be done?

[sighs. about to say something. decides against it.] Anything good in the papers?

Nothing worth sharing.

[pause] Why did you say  “your son”?

What?

Why did you say “your son”? He’s yours, too.

Fine, our son.

[defeated] Should we go for a walk?

In the snow?

Yes.

But there’s a lot.

Indeed. [thinks this over.] Well?

Where’s your– our son? Maybe he wants to go.

You’re right. There’s too much snow.

Here. Read this. [hands over a section of the paper] This is interesting.

[takes the paper] It’s about shoes.

Yea. You like shoes, right?

[staring down at the paper] Yea. I guess so.

[Quantity over quality: See Crispy]

cuddling

•December 18, 2009 • Leave a Comment
Hyejin: okay
i have a confession to make
lastnite
i cuddled with a priest in my dream
i woke up,
and i was like wtf
it was more like him harassing me, and i didnt like it
O WELL
that’s my story