Bish Beem Bam Boom Fee

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It will be impossible to write anything today, much less five hundred whole words.  It will not be possible.  It will not happen.  It can not happen.  I cannot force my way to five hundred words.  I cannot bullshit my way there.  It is a fait n’accompli pas.  It ain’t happening.

It cannot happen because my eyeball has a twinge.  It’s twitching like there’s a battery in there. Or maybe because I’ve spent all day refreshing pages and staring at screens in hope of the arrival of a message that has not come.  Or maybe because the temperature is too high.  Or maybe the temperature with the fan blowing things in my face and drying my twingey eye until it feels as though it is made of vulcanized rubber.  I have had m

I sat in the grass in my dress today, the very dress I am wearing now, with some sort of smothered burrito for lunch.  It was a late lunch, after two.  I’d spent too much on it, ordering it out of nostalgia for old days when I never had to pay for my lunch.  I already feel like I’m operating on dust and spit and wings and prayers and suddenly, I have bought some sort of magnum extragavanza burrito Supreme! With chips and salsa because this is how I used to eat it.  With a giant vat of diet soda.  So I sat there, genteel-like with my legs situated just so to allow for all of this coordination to happen without spills.  It was on a little hillock in a park where I took my mother along to see President Obama speak.  That was a big day and the pond, the pond I had until this very moment forgotten existed, had just been filled in and everything was marshy and water would rise when you walked, but we went there and saw the President who complimented our town and the beauty of it.  My mother was pretty overjoyed.  I almost felt like she was proud of me in a particular way, like not just mother-pride, or you’re-okay-pride, but wow, hey, this is amazing-pride.  That park was where I was sitting today on my lunch break, spending over an hour’s pay on my lunch, just thinking about how my life has basically gone to shit and I am not doing anything to stop it.   That I am despairing over having to spend money on getting my mentor a birthday gift.  That I am totally and utterly fucked.

Okay.  It is that time when it is time to think the terrible things I think and let the night take them far away from me.  I also need to drink some water.  I think half the trouble is not having ice water at hand.  If I had ice water, I probably would be completely fine.  But yet, knowing this, can I make myself get up, fill a water bottle and plunk it in the fridge so that even if I’m dry and destroyed tonight, in the morning, I’d have water?

Please let the answer be yes, oh, please, oh, please.

 

 

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