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Waking up at 11:15 a.m.
Strawberry Honey Bunches of Oats with Almond Milk.
All day shift at China Wok.
Delivering an order to Skylark Drive. It's an upgrade from a trailer house but still a trailer nonetheless. I'm greeted by two large barking dogs. Without warning, a lady in her 50's reaches over and hugs me. "See guys? He's friendly!" she exclaims to her dogs then looks at me and says, "I have to do this otherwise that one would eat you." She hugs at least two more times to get the point across.
Egg Sandwich with Mayo and Tomato. Edamame Thins. White Green Tea with Honey.
The day continues slowly but surely. Ling's in New York so it's just Ming and Cecily at the restaurant. All the deliveries are my responsibility today.
Fiberful Peanut Butter Chocolate Granola Bar.
It's been an awfully slow day compared to the past week. At some point I'm sitting down waiting for the phones to ring.
"You can't control what your heart tells ya. People's outlooks change," says a man at another table sitting across from a dirty-blonde-haired girl in her 30's, maybe even younger. I recognize him and her from a few deliveries I made at the oceanfront to an independent electronics store. She's obviously pregnant. Her attire: All white Nike sneakers with at least a 2-inch sole, skin tight black jeans, black and white sports jacket with a gray hood – she's attractive, but attractive in a ghetto fab girl kind of way – her hair in a ponytail opening up her face to reveal these wide eyes that scream a general contempt for anything in front of her. She's the self-absorbed kind of woman that says the word "whatever" in every sentence. But her voice isn't loud or anything. I listen to her confide in this man. I don't understand their relationship. Is she a girlfriend? Is that her dad, brother, or cousin? There's only a hint of sweetness in her words but gosh I can sense that judgment all over her. Maybe my judgments against her spring from the fact she didn't tip me that time ago.
Honey Crisp Apple.
Ana rolls in shortly after 9 p.m. I wasn't expecting to see her so it's a nice surprise. While tagging along on a few deliveries she explains her frustration with herself still not feeling comfortable enough to tell me everything or talk about everything. For instance, recently she's been planning to take drum lessons and for some reason she doesn't want to talk about it with me for fear of...well honestly I don't know why. I don't see myself as this overly critical person. I explain, "I don't feel I'm ever judgmental of you and I'll always be supportive of anything you want to try or do. I think you're talented. And you're kind of like me because you like to do a lot of different things. We're similar in that way. I just want you to feel comfortable to tell me anything!" We're dating and should be able to talk about anything with each other.
Off work.
A girl walks in the front door almost immediately after me. She approaches me in the kitchen and says, "Sorry for just barging in here. I just needed somebody to make me feel loved." Then, she leans in for a hug. What is it with hugs from strangers today? I recognize her as one of Jessica's friends. Sydney is her name, like the capital of Australia.
"Well there's plenty of people here that will love you!" I say. I escort her up the stairs and into Jessica's room.
Enjoying Tofu with Broccoli, Onions, Carrots, and Rice in Garlic Sauce.
Ana sends me a Facebook message...
"I just want to apologize for my bad attitude towards you when I got to china wok and when you first brought up the topic about the drums. After talking it through and you clarifying that you are supportive and that you would support me in everything I realized how awfully silly I have been acting towards you. I have been feeling extremely defeated lately and especially last night on my drive home as I went through the long list of things I need to improve in my life.
We have been in a relationship for some time now, and I know that you are one of the strongest shoulders that I should feel completely comfortable to lean on because you are one of the most accepting persons that I do know. I guess it's just this fear in me that I still hold over me, an invisible wall. If anything, I'm so lucky that you're so understanding. You melted me into softness.
It really made me feel better when you said that you would help me out in getting a drum kit together. It was such an uncomfortable topic. It's just uncomfortable for me to ask you for help, especially when it comes to music because you are a musician full of natural talent and experience. Me on the other hand, not so experienced. I do love that we both share the same love for music. I hold that at a high value within our relationship.
I'm not sure if my emotions/thoughts have heightened this year because of realizations or my age or the antibiotics or the birthcontrol or maybe it's all of those things combined. Regardless of the reason, I am trying my best not to be this negative energy ball. I think it is a good thing that you're honest with me... honest enough to tell me the negative energy I gave you in the car and as I entered the wok.
I want to grow myself. I want our closeness to grow along with our lives... I want us to move forward individually and as a unit. I sometimes lose sight of that desire, but it is a strong desire of mine that you already know.
This relationship of ours is extraordinary, and I feel you have a lot to do with that.
I'm lucky. Everyday I am lucky. You're a good person.
My drive home felt full of happiness and hope.
Also I'm SOSOSOSOOOOSOOSOS happy that we exercise and sing together. When you came out and told me of 'the plans' [tomorrow's plans of us going to the gym and then singing]... I felt this enthusiastic little person dance inside of me.
And
I love you."
Downstairs, I fix a drawer in the kitchen and clean behind the stove and the fridge looking for any opening the roaches could be coming from. Meanwhile, I hear an unusual thump from upstairs. Oh, it's just Kevin – he's drunk. But he's a little more than drunk. Apparently, Josh gave him a small dosage of Ativan too. I've never seen Kevin like this – he staggers about his room – we can hear him. It almost seems he's just throwing his body against the walls – very odd. I confront him and confiscate the remaining alcohol. This is K-Moore in his finest moment. The passing out at the end is unscripted and completely real...
Sleep 4 a.m.
[i] Image by me.
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