Monday July 11 2011

DREAM: Driving around a city at night looking for an address to deliver Chinese food, “2552”. Don’t know the street name. I pull in through the entrance of a neighborhood that seems more like a faux-neighborhood—all the buildings and storefronts clustered together. Walking up to the door. It’s Margot and her friends, Tory and Monica. Earlier in the dream I remember Margot telling me about her plans to go out with friends. I guess they got a hotel room. I’m kind of surprised to be delivering to them. It’s understood that Monica is sick but still wants to eat greasy Chinese food. Margot’s got a big smile on her face.

Waking up just after 11:30 a.m.

Breakfast: Apple Fritter Bread with Butter. Orange Juice. Zinc.

All day shift at China Wok.



Lunch: Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.

Man, it’s really SLOOOOWW.

My feet are irritating me—taking off my socks and shoes while I drive. Ahh. It feels so good to let the feet breathe. I decide to deliver barefoot for a while.

Belgium Milk Chocolate Bar.

I’m a barefoot deliveryman!

Bad day for business…

Finally off.

Dinner: Vegetable Lo Mein. (I told Ling to add extra snow peas. I want to taste the fruits of my labor.)

Enjoying a cold Dunkelweizen beer—in Darren’s room, listening to him vent about his corrupt workplace.

Art shows up—earlier he asked if I’d help him move some mattresses and a desk to his new apartment because I have a station wagon and of course, mattresses. Driving down Oceana, that long stretch of road bordering the jet base. Sharing Bali Hai cigarettes—the clove smoke escaping through the open windows.

Me: “This road gets so lonely at night.”

Art expresses to me the new weight of responsibilities on his back having to move into a place on his own, along with Roma and Jamil, and a few girls. Just as I was the leader and facilitator of 1623 and currently of 1435, he has to be the father of his own abode.

At the apartment off Harper’s road. Just outside a lady is standing there with a six week old puppy crawling in the grass—I immediately come over to pet the tiny fur ball. “Oh my gosh! He’s so tiny.”

Back home. Eating a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Sleep 3 a.m.

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