Archive for August, 2012

superfluous

Posted: August 30, 2012 in otiose

Is it odd that I started making my own bow ties to compliment my underwear and then started making my own underwear to match my bow ties?
Or maybe it’s just strange that I go to all the trouble when I rarely wear either?

These are the vapid thoughts that pop up sometimes…

Tom

Posted: August 22, 2012 in otiose

“Tom!”

“Tom! Open the door!”

“Tom!”

Who the fuck is Tom?

Leaving for work way too early in the morning to be even remotely happy about it, I met Tom; a shirtless old man with crumbling teeth and thinning hair. He walked with a cane and talked about his sister…although I hadn’t asked.

Yeah, Tom not only woke me up in the middle of the night by failing to open the door for whoever the fuck wanted in at that obscene hour, he also made me late for work.

Oh well. Now I know who the fuck Tom is.

Productivity

Posted: August 19, 2012 in transliteration

Without steady internet access, I’d like to think I’m slightly more productive with my time, but the truth is…I’m not.

I caught myself lying on the floor studying the spines of my textbooks
comparing publishers
and wondering when McGraw-Hill started collaborating with Glencoe.

In actuality, I am being somewhat productive.
I moved almost an entire ton of books
by myself
in one day.

One very hot and sunny day.

I’ve read around a thousand pages to keep my mind from wandering off without me
while my body recuperated.
When I let it wander for any length of time beyond catching myself comparing textbook spines
I end up in that strange, spongy spot where you still reside.
Upon revisiting the internet, I made a colossal error in judgment
willpower
or some such offensive slight to my character as a human being.

Oh, I also made English muffins.

new downstairs neighbors

Posted: August 14, 2012 in otiose

I shook Tim’s hand, even though mine was sweaty, and he said, “Welcome to the jungle.”
I looked up the steps to my door and offered up my name as acceptance of this greeting while turning down help with my belongings.

“This is no place for a girl like you.”

We’ll see.
We shall see just what I’m made to weather this time.