you get what you settle for.

Subject:	idle brains are shit-i-shouldn't-be-worrying-about-but-nonetheless-am's jackpot. alriiight.
Time:	12:07 am.
Mood:	contemplative.
Music:	thin lizzy - sarah.

7:48 am - wake up. decide to clean bathroom. discover mysterious, unrecognizable hairs on linoleum. discard of hairs. going at grout like a woman posessed by green side of sponge, i wonder if perhaps a ginger-haired male or female has recently been a guest here, or is, holy shit, maybe trying to kill one of us? i squeak windex from mirrors with shitty paper towels that leave paper dust in their wake. i think, oh! maybe the dead relative of someone who lives here is trying to contact them by leaving piles of ginger hair. it would be an inside thing in their relationship - why should it rmake any sense to me? suddenly feel pang of guilt for sweeping up mysterious hairs.

8:52 am - sip artificially sweetened mug of liptons as i peruse the offerings of a catalogue called VENUS, which was mailed to a former resident. wonder again at the terminology of a maxi-dress. set mug down. realize an orange cat named carmella lives here.

2:09 pm - go to pee. witness awesome nature fight between spider and, like, at least 14 ants. flush, wash hands, skip down hallway.

2:13 pm - wonder if telling roommate about nature fight is appropriate. wonder if having ants and spiders in the bathroom is appropriate.

3:35 - set out for bike ride to test healing process of crunk left foot and soak up lovely day. clf feels suprisingly thumbs up.

4:24 - come home. immediately after hopping off bicycle it feels as though my entire left lower-leg region is seriously crunk, like, crunker than before times fuuuck. hobble up to my room. stretch some, try not to panic, remove tights, assess damage.

4:36 pm - re-assess damage by comparing clf to normal right foot. become alarmed at clf's swelling, not because it hurts or looks somewhat like i am wearing a sock made out of bruise, but because when i pinch the skin it gets wrinkly. i have always prided myself on my cute feet. what if, when the swelling goes down, my foot is left to look like a once-obese person who started eating subway for lunch? i can't afford surgery to remove extra foot skin. this could change my entire approach to footwear.

5:03 pm - realize it's been over 24 hours since ive received a text from the anging philadelphia artist with whom i once lived. grow concerned; decide to text him.

7:00 - return of the jedi is on spike. i cry at the end. my roommates make fun of me.

9:09 - receive text from apa. he explains that his phone was shut off. sends a text picture of himself dressed as heath ledger's joker. maybe the tenth of its kind that he's sent since halloween. i ask, christ, did you actually dress up again?
he replies, "dress up?? hahahaa". i become alarmed, distantly.

seriously though i better not have some sag foot.

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