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Tuesday, Jan. 06, 2004 / 10:16 p.m. ~Wear A Coat~ Kukla said, "Must be nice to have your own private mechanic", and I said, "Neener, neener, neener". He sat and looked at my car's manual, the big book, and she asked aloud, loud, "So, what are you doing for lunch?", and she never asks that, and I walked away realizing she wanted us to go together, him, me, he, I, us. I can't, it's against protocol, it's unseemly, unsavory, nonessential, aka unacceptably wrong and unethical. It was funny though, she was spunky today. We oh so surreptitiously use the Interweb access PC throughout the day. The work comes in while I'm on break, she does it, while she is at lunch, I do it. We take turns, we talk, we catch up, I read, she talks on the phone, she makes plans, always plans. Vegas, dinner, Summer, Spring, doesn't matter, it's all planned, and open for reinterpretation. I sit and try to concentrate, try to read, but I'm listening. I can't help but hear. Today I sat back, feet up, head on back of chair, I closed my eyes, I listened to NPR, classical, then college radio, slow, trance-y music, soft, lilting, lulling, I wanted to sleep, I wanted to forget my life, I wanted data to enter, I wanted it to be the week before Christmas when we WORKED, we were BUSY, we forgot the time. Now is slow, and I relish it, but my mind wanders, and I am lost in the obscene and false comfort of it. Alas, tomorrow we train to do yet another 'document', and we need this. Kukla doesn't trust it was a natural progression, she thinks it was coercion, that there were greater forces at work, she insinuated as much. I don't care, I really don't. It's 27 degrees fahrenheit now, it's to get colder and colder, and I am going to crawl into my nighttime constellations sheets, the thick flannel sheets that long to be washed again and again to soften, the down comforter, the cat who always paws to be let in, under, beside me, leaves to get out, paws to get in, interrupting my sleep, making me remember dreams, try to erase them, go back to do it all again. They were fine. They were locked in the bedroom yesterday and today, and it took until today for the 'men' to come, and at home for lunch I almost couldn't tell, I looked and everything was right, nothing askew, askance, awry, asunder, but then, then, I was on the toilet to pee, I sat and looked around, still, saw a line of something on the little dragonfly rug on the floor by the sink, like a line of toothpaste squeezed from a tube, a row, a line, a squeezing, and it was lavendar, it was the most subtle shade of purple, violet, light, mauve, pink, lavendar, and I grabbed at it with tissue, it was the aforementioned boric acid based gel, I knew it, I expected it, but not like this. When I went in the kitchen it was more apparent, there were globs of it in places, spilled, recklessly, and haphazardly spilled on the floor, G's Charles Chips box moved away from the cabinets, and I didn't look to see the non spills, the purposeful leavings, only the spillage, which I cleaned, and G smelled on the dragonflies, and I bade her no, do not, it can't be good, and she said fine, yeah, just curious hey, just a smellin'. It's over, that part, it's over. The pest control extravaganza aught four. And now we return you to your regularly scheduled program. Full Moon is dangerous, I beg everyone and no one, do not hurt me, not now. You have something to say, do not say it, no email, nothing painful, stay away. I know you don't want me, I am dealing with that, I don't need abuse. It's written here, and it's written there, amidst numerous 'private' entries, and those I've made private here. The game is over. I know what I want, but you don't. Just don't tell me, because I already know. I'm in pain. I am going to wake up to another world, and in another life, and this will happen in another time. For now, I ingest vitamins, extra herbs, extra immunity is required to sustain all this, all of it. And the cold. And the one at work, the one who spoke to me today, out of the some proverbial piece of blue, said, "We're all gonna start barkin', we're all gonna get sick now, with this weather", and I thought no, no, no, when will you people learn that a cold is a virus, it is not caused by weather, but by transmission through mucous membranes, tissue. Wash your hands and wear a coat, you idiot. Cost of the War in Iraq
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