[i]
☼ ○ ▬
I've got my computer station set up (extra monitor and external hard drives included) inside the café area of a grocery store that's understood to be Whole Foods. As I'm packing up I get distracted in a conversation with someone I know a few tables down. When I return to my spot it appears someone has stolen some of my things. The situation gets frustrating really quick. I search around for the culprit. There's a little girl hiding with her sister by an aisle peeking around to see if anyone's after them. They don’t seem to notice me march over.
Me: "Hey! Give me my stuff back!"
I confiscate what's in her hands, which seems to be nothing of mine. The scene continues in this manner. I'm highly stressed.
▬ ○ ☼
Waking up around 1:30 p.m.
Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice.
Some blog is telling me how I'm eating apples all wrong, shucking strawberries wrong, and eating cupcakes wrong. Most people leave 30% of an apple when they're done but eating from the bottom up will eliminate any leftover core. For strawberries, using a straw and poking from bottom out will remove the leaf of at the top without discarding too much strawberry. For cupcakes, twisting the bottom half off the cupcake and then sandwiching it on top of the frosting makes sure you get a combination of frosting and cake in every bite.
I drive out to a storage unit in Kempsville to meet a guy selling a whole bunch of stuff, mainly I was interested in these bulky book shelves once used in the Norfolk library in the 1950's. His kids are running around with an umbrella and throwing bouncy balls around while him and I negotiate prices. For $120 I take three library shelves, one regular wood bookshelf, a fold-up wooden table, and a black floor lamp. It all fits perfectly in my station wagon but weighs it down a ton. I drive carefully down the road. Oh my goodness. There's traffic galore. Almost every stoplight requires a ten-minute wait. Then, Kevin calls me saying his car is spilling coolant all over the place so I'm obligated to cover the dinner shift at China Wok. No problem. But I barely make it to Hilltop in a timely manner. While waiting at the intersection of Laskin and First Colonial a string of ambulances and fire trucks zoom by. Of course, they use their infrared stoplight changers. It causes a glitch in the traffic lights making our line of traffic wait almost 15 minutes until the light turns green. I don't have a problem with these devices being used because I'm sure it's more important that those emergency vehicles arrive in time to save a life or whatever. But every time it screws up the stoplight cycles.
...
Mixed Nuts. Papaya. Vanilla Almond Granola Bar. Salt n Vinegar Chips with Hummus. Lemon Water.
...
Working a few hours at China Wok. Making an easy $40. Josh ordered some food and requested me to pick up beer too.
Me: "Why can't you just walk and get some yourself? You're not a teenager."
Josh: "There's some part of me that just wants to see beer and chinese come to me."
Back home.
There's a showing of Kevin's infamous film The Lone Survivor in the living room.
Black Beans, Broccoli, Snow Peas, and Rice in Brown Sauce.
Watching Sidewalls (2011).
Situating one of the new bookshelves in the living room. And so completes the VHS/DVD library, Phase One of the reconstruction of our living room.
Meanwhile Josh, Kevin, Richie, and Sasha are hanging out drinking up beer and wine. And Josh once again proves himself to be a raging poetic alcoholic. It's just one of those destructive nights of his, not a rarity, but liable to happen once a month, shattering glass on the floor, yelling nonsensical ramblings, spilling the bouquet of flowers, and scaring Sasha badly enough to bring tears to her eyes. It's just too much. I can't even be entertained by it. I'm very disconnected from that kind of world. Amidst the chaos I stick to my plan of velcroing books to the broken TV.
The night drags on into the dark early morning. I occupy my time with these mini tasks like researching books and downloading music. Sasha busies herself in the dining room drawing an intricate piece of work with markers, the "Book of the Week" sign. Like me, she's a night owl to the bone.
[ii]
Sleep at 5 a.m.
[i] Images by me.
[ii] Marker art by Sasha.
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