[i]
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An army of Norwegian soldiers, giant-like and slender, line up behind corridors. I'm a part of an American army of sorts. After something gets lost in translation between a Norwegian soldier and I it sparks a war. We don't stand a chance physically. They're just too big for us. The hallways get bombarded and confusing. The armies migrate outside. I'm left with a few fellow soldiers. We link up with the Seals and arm ourselves with guns. While looking for our enemies we discover a water-slide tunnel connected with a water park. I grab a raft and slide down with excitement.
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I find an abnormally large frog with toothpicks lodged into it's back for protection, kind of like a porcupine. I take pride in my new pet though. I notice a smaller frog is stuck to it's back. I attempt to pull it off but the frog moves around too much for me to handle it. I'm careful not to get poked by the sharp toothpicks. Later, this frog thing kind of transforms into an attractive girl that I just met. She's lying face down on the ground. I pull down her black panties and use my fingers to pleasure her. Nearby, a few friends are watching, one of them being Ana. I feel embarrassed but something is controlling me. At least Ana seems to be hiding her face with her hands. The good part is I don't go any further with this strange frog girl.
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Waking up at 10:55 a.m.
Honey Bunches of Oats with Almond Milk. Grapefruit.
All day shift at China Wok.
Caramel Nut Bar. Half a Peanut Butter Bagel. Popped Potato Chips. Honey Green Tea.
After lunchtime it's pretty non-stop driving and delivering for the rest of the night.
Maple Leaf Cookies, a little too much.
Dealing with the general annoyances of a delivery driver. The traffic is worse than it usually is. Cars line up like ants behind the stoplights. And here I am a part of it. I'm a slave just like everybody else.
The whole day just whizzes by in a time-canceling haze. Racking up the tips and the miles.
Finally off work after a full 12 hours.
Fried Chicken with Broccoli, Carrots, Onions, and Rice in Garlic Sauce.
Watching a documentary on NBA's 1992 Dream Team.
While cleaning the dishes Josh walks in and asks, "Where's the house?" referring to the whereabouts of the other roommates.
"I don't know," I reply.
He asked this as if him and I being home didn't satisfy as "the house". We're used to it being a full house in the late evening hours. When people are missing either something's wrong or there is another event outside the house that's more exciting.
Sleep at 3 a.m.
[i] Chinese Frog. Source unknown.
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