Friday January 25 2013

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Fulfilling my cleaning duties in a bathroom. Spraying a green chemical everywhere, on the toilet seat, on the sinks, on the floors, etc. A fairly attractive girl that I don’t know too well lends a helping hand.

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Waking up around 1:30 p.m.


Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice.


The weather reports are calling it Winter Storm Kahn but it’s definitely going to snow tonight.


Digging into some research on how to insulate my storage unit – getting lost in a sea of information.


The S N O W arrives. It’s tenderly quiet outside. Snow has a mysterious beauty to it.


I trek over to the clubhouse to run on the treadmill for a few miles.


It’s not surprising that even though I’m not scheduled to work tonight I get called into China Wok. So here I am traversing around the icy sludgy roads of Virginia Beach at a cautious pace of 25 miles per hour delivering Chinese food. I observe a few idiots swerve off the side of the road. I myself manage to survive a few 180-degree spins. The trick is to take the turns slowly and carefully. The tips are in the extreme. It’s either $8 to $10 tips or straight up stiffs.

...

Meanwhile Margot calls me while I’m maneuvering around. I was supposed to help her move some things from her condo into a new place. But she locked herself out of her condo. She’s upset because it becomes quite an ordeal, as the condo office doesn’t even have an extra key to let her in so she has to call an overpriced locksmith. It’s weird I haven’t even heard her voice in so long. It’s normally like this though; whenever she’s in trouble or needs moral support I get a ring.


Off work.


I got invited to hang out with Margot for a little bit. I drive over to her condo. She only has a few more days till she officially moves out. I drink up a few beers in her fridge that she wants rid of, a Shock Top and a Hoegaarden. I was already informed she’s moving into a house off Shore Drive with dudes, which is kind of strange. As I sip on the beers I’m bombarded with a tale of her hooking up with a guy that she plans on moving in with. I act solemn and uninterested. She notices. Her attitude proves she’s not hopped up on me whatsoever. I didn’t necessarily expect her to be nor do I really want her to be. But I definitely don’t care to hear about her sex life. There’s something disturbing about it. I know we’re both way past this kind of stuff by now but it just makes me uncomfortable to even imagine these kinds of things.

She insists on hearing about any stories I may have.

Her: “C’mon. Tell me some juicy stories.”

Me: “Um. I really don’t have any. Not since the last time I saw you.”

Condescendingly she says, “Oh that’s unfortunate.”

...

Walking around in the bedroom.

Me: “Man, I’ve spent a lot of nights here.”

Her: “So have I.”

Me: “Duh.”

...

She gets all googly-eyed at some point and draws out her arms for a hug. We embrace.

Her: “God, it’s weird seeing you.”

Me: “I know. Same here. I miss you sometimes.”

...

She’s off to visit one of her girlfriends at work. I walk her outside. I scrape the snow off her car. She rolls down the window and gives me a genuine smile.

Her: “It was good to see you.”

Me: “Good to see you as well.”


Back home.

Watching Escape from Alcatraz (1979).

Hot and Sour Soup with Crunchy Noodles. Creamy Polenta with Spinach and Carrots.


Sleep 3:30 a.m.


[i] Image by me.

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