Saturday July 23 2011

Waking up just after 11 a.m.

Breakfast: Orange Juice. Black Figs. Zinc.

All day shift at China Wok.

Just another scorching hot day in Virginia Beach.

She’s texting me but I can’t respond….

“I don’t feel good about us at all. In fact I feel terrible. All I wanna do is cry and lay in bed……….We need to make the decision to stay together or throw in the towel……….I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to break up.”

Busy afternoon for deliveries—but nobody’s tipping. I’m irritable.

Stopping by the house real quick for food. Darren and Kevin walk in. Kevin expresses his concerns from last night when Margot and I were fighting. He woke up from a dream and heard yelling in the middle of the night. His impersonations are comical and on point.

Kevin: “I was scared so I turned on the TV.”

Lunch: Egg Sandwich with Tomato and Mayonnaise. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.

A storm. Rain falling for 20 minutes. Ahhh. The air smells fresh and rejuvenated. No more hot sun. This is nice.

I don’t want to be the one that gives up. Does that make sense?

Busy. Busy. China woking. Haha. Get it? China Wok working. China Woking.

Am I. Soft, thoughtful. Wanting.

Strawberry Yogurt with Blueberries.

Lightening storms are fun…

Starbucks Coffee Frapuccino from 7-11.

After a busy dinner rush I’m finally off work.

Taking my Vegetable Lo Mein dinner to Raven’s place. Listening to oldies and talking about books. The conversation eventually leads into venting on my end—looking for some consolation—looking for someone else to help understand, a fresh ear, and an outside source. Her cat, respectively named House, serves as a good distraction.

Me: “I miss having a cat in the house. But then I don’t.”

I walk outside to leave and realize I fell prey to something I thought I was smart enough to avoid…the most corrupt industry in the city: The Towing Industry. Arbor Trace is decal controlled, clearly stated on a blue sign when you enter. In my mind, that did not apply to guest spots, but there are none. The whole parking lot is off limits to guests, not clearly stated on the sign. I should be pissed. And I am. There goes a day’s pay down the drain and into the pocket of someone else trying to make a living. But I won’t be selfish. Here. It’s a gift from me to you. Live prosperous my fellow American.

Back home. Sipping on a Fat Weasel Ale.

Car maintenance.

Missing. Sleep 3:30 a.m.

1 comment:

Sinclair said...

I'm always impressed by how open you are in your blog. Takes a strong man to air his life to the world.