Day 199
So it is now 3 am and I can't really remember what happened today. All I know is that I watched a ton of TV, reading sucks, I ate lemon dill-flavored hummus, and my bodyguard is online and I want to chat with him but won't. I have gmail chatted with him so much lately that I realized that he showers a lot. Apparently, it is inappropriate to realize how much someone showers unless you live with them. He lives next door.
I was supposed to spend today by myself, in my room, with books and TV. This I did, but I did venture out several times. The first time was to get oranges and a prescription filled. The getting of oranges wasn't all that exciting except that I realized one thing about the store clerk. She never says one word to me, ever. No greeting or "Goodbye." These things can go somewhat unnoticed, but when your backpack is resting on the fruit scale and she wants it to be moved and she just points, you realize that she will not speak to you. I don't know how I feel about this. I imagine that this is her game that she gets her jollies from. I imagine that she lives her life with a calendar filled with how many words she said all day to customers, and that there are gold stars on the days that say 'O.' I imagine there aren't many days without gold stars, but this fact doesn't dull the joy she gets from sticking them proudly to each '0' day.
The prescription I had filled was less exciting. It pretty much involved me waiting for a pharmacist. There was a bell on the counter but I couldn't bring myself to ring it. So, I stood there unnoticed and frustrated and wanting to be the type of person who rings the bell and knowing I could be that person, but not doing it. Finally, he came over. He quoted me on the price for the drug. When I came back, after it was filled, he told me that the drug was actually like 14 bucks more than before. Then I wished I was the type of person who threw bells at people in white jackets, but I took my drugs, thanked him and left.
The second time I went out today was to meet a friend for coffee. While waiting for the bus I tried not to stare at this couple who were making out in the bus shelter. When the bus finally came the couple sat in a seat facing forward and I sat directly behind them in a seat facing to the side. I leaned against the sheet of plexiglass that divided us. We rode on with their heads bouncing on the glass which in turn, bounced on my arm. I felt so close to them it was borderline erotic. It may have been full blown erotic had the couple not separated to check their phones and send text messages every 2 minutes. If I am ever the girl making out with the guy dressed in flannel with sexy broad shoulders on the bus and he dared check his phone while we were making out, he wouldn't have a phone anymore. He would have tiny little pieces.
While at the coffeeshop I confided to my friend that I don't really like reading some of my classmates work. She told me that most of the time she didn't bother reading any of it. This made me feel better. Then we talked about comments that people write on our own pieces. I told her that one of our fellow students is always getting after me about comments. She told me that she already knew how he felt about my comma usage. I asked how she knew and she said he had bitched about it to her. Then, I felt worse. Now, after I write about it I am feeling better again. He must have a super boring life to spend time talking about how I use commas. But, me talking to my friend about his bitchiness about commas and writing it on my blog, makes me have even less of a life in a way. Now, I feel worse.
Yesterday my friend told me that she didn't believe in coincidences. She said that everything happens for a reason. Tonight I was tooling around facebook to see that a South African friend of mine had posted lyrics to a song on her facebook wall. I googled the lyrics to find that the writer/performer of them was from a town only 20 miles from my hometown. Did I mention she is the person who lives directly above me? She has probably been up their playing music from my home state and not even knowing it. Now, is this coincidence or fate? Or is it just inconsequential?
Tip of the Day: Fart on the bus sometimes. It's fun.
-Canadian Castaway
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