The alarm goes off at 11:06 a.m. Gosh, the soreness won’t go away in my throat.
Breakfast: Peaches. Strawberry Yogurt. Orange Juice.
Full day shift at China Wok.
It’s incredibly hot.
During our slow time—napping in the wagon.
Lunch: Hard Boiled Egg. Cape Cod Kettle Cooked Potato Chips with Avocado. Honey Green Tea.
The sky cracks open with lightening and rain.
Delivering an order by the hospital. I notice a set of sprinklers automatically on with intention to water the shrubs and grass. How ridiculous is this? There’s perfect natural water falling down from the clouds already.
Watermelon and Vitamin Water.
Delivering an order on Waterfront off Birdneck. The customer opens the door and a little brown pug dog comes running out to greet me. Cuteness. I get distracted with the transaction from the pug sniffing and tickling my ankles.
The evening is steady leaving no room for me to take a break or sit down. Grateful for the business. It’s a fruitful workday.
Back home.
Me: “Anthony, what did you accomplish today?”
Anthony: “Digging myself deeper.”
We lost power at the house earlier today during the storm. It’s back on but acting trippy—lights dimming in and out—no power to the stove or kitchen. The electrical wiring in this place blows. It seems like any little out of the ordinary weather we have causes a malfunction.
Dinner: leftover Shrimp Sinigang with Onions, Tomatoes, Peppers, Jalapenos, and Green Beans.
Read somewhere that slicing a clove of raw garlic in half and putting the pieces in each cheek and sucking on the allicin chemical excreted can kill the bacteria that causes strep. So that’s what I’m doing now just in case.
Researching some Ear, Nose, & Throat Specialists in the area—probably going to see one soon if my throat doesn’t clear up.
Google work.
Sipping on a hot water mixture of apple cider vinegar and honey.
My baby comes in, large pizza from Chanello’s in hand, looking all sexy and beautiful—blue AA one piece and tight white skirt. It’s hard to explain how thrilled she is about pizza. As she sits there slurping down slices I comment, “I think you have an unhealthy obsession with pizza.”
Her: “Not unhealthy!”
Nonetheless I eat a few of my own slices.
She’s got that look in her eye—her body behavior overwhelms my shy little boy tendencies. Making love. She’s lovin’ it—I hear it in her pleasurable moans. I don’t know why I’m always so quiet. I guess I just like to focus on her movement and responses. Nothing turns me on more. We’ve finished. She goes to the bathroom. I continue lying there sprawled out feeling lightheaded and high. I don’t know what song is playing on my computer but it fits the mood perfectly.
Naked underneath the thin blanket—I spoon her and caress her silky hair…
Me: “Sometimes I forget you’re real.”
Sleep 4 a.m.
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