Newest Archives Profile Whispers Rings Host
And I mean flushed in the non-bathroom sort of way Weighing my pockets with stones of longing Especially when those days are Saturday and Sunday. |
Yesterday I was emotional, my student Madisson told me I was mean, I felt like a tattle tale, I sat in darkness, I finally ate dinner, I went out to Tierra Madre and drank sangria and saw a woman playing a washtub bass in a gypsy band, saw a giant black dog that could open doors for itself, was disgusted by Laurent, patted on the head by Rahel, not allowed into a club by grumpy bouncers who don't like missing their bedtime. Left a stupid message on Kelsey's machine, couldn't get to sleep, woke up lonely, bravely changed a shattered lightbulb, and tried to convince my mom to stop crying while she told me my cat of 18 years had died. Retreated into the better part of a tub of crème fraiche, sat down to watch Amélie and at every cat reference or image in the movie - which were surprisingly frequent - hiccuped into my jumbo cup of champagne. Without doing the dishes or even washing my face I crawled into bed and cried myself to sleep, resisting the urge to message Kelsey into calling me, knowing it would only leave me feeling more alone.
Feeling like a wounded 8 year old... who can drink at 6:03 p.m.
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