[i]
Waking up at 11:04 a.m.
Watermelon. Blueberries.
All day shift at China Wok.
Goldfish Crackers.
Terribly slow at work this afternoon but I'm not complaining, at least today.
Power napping in the hot car.
Only four orders in five hours. Not good business today.
Toasted Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich. Honey Green Tea.
Delivering an order on Bay Island near Shore Drive, the five-mile secluded island with only one entrance/exit. A funny older man answers the door, "Watchu want?"
I play along with a smile, "Some money?"
[Ha-ha-ha]
His order is $15 and some change. He hands me a twenty and asks, "Will that make you a happy camper?"
Me: "Sure."
He notices a doorknob advertisement from Mosquito Joe, a service that sprays repellant in your backyard, and asks, "What's that?"
I hand him the brochure. He reads it out loud, "Stop smacking yourself in the face."
As I'm walking away he slips the brochure in my hand and says, "Don't smack yourself in the face!"
Me: "Thanks!"
All day it's been just me, Ling, and Ming running the restaurant, except for Cliff, the other driver, helping out at dinnertime. Just before 10 o'clock Cecily walks in with their two little girls with huge smiles on their faces. It's giggles non-stop as they run around hiding behind the counter. I take two cups and draw eyes on them – leaning them over the counter. When the little ones see it they explode with laughter and screams. The whole China Wok family is here. I feel grateful to be a part.
Fried Shrimp in Garlic Sauce with Broccoli, Onions, Carrots, and Rice.
Off work and home.
Ana comes over for some quality time. Sharing the last of the Chocolate Chip Oatmeal Cookies we made last week.
...
Singing and practicing songs together.
...
I hit play on my hearted Hype Machine playlist and let the music soothe and serenade the mood. We migrate to the bed – cuddling and touching lightly over the pores of each other's skin. I wasn't even thinking about sex earlier but somehow the fire lights up and all of a sudden we're living in ecstasy. We keep going and going. With her turned over on her stomach I finish. Before I clean up my mess I analyze how everything looks to see if an image was formed.
She protests, "What're you doing?"
Me: "I'm looking at my painting."
Her: "And what do you see?"
Me: "Life...struggling to survive."
Sleep around 5 a.m.
[i] Sink. Process Recess. James Jean.
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