Just kidding. But I did see a hideously ugly, large-and-in-charge woman on the train over the weekend with a fat rock on her ring-finger. Love, like underwear, comes in all sizes.
I've been trying my damndest to keep this from morphing into a venue for I, I, I, but fuck it.
I've been really sick lately. Not mentally ill, but physically ill. The shite weather, and the long waits in cold train stations finally got to me. Been popping anti-biotics for days and still feel like shite. I
don't know how I'd survive a day job right now. Grad school gives me the freedom to sleep past noon.
But I'm not as lazy as that. I'm revising the resume and looking for employment. I'm just lucky to be unemployed while sick. Now I don't need to deal with getting permission from higher ups to rest in bed. Work-- institutionalized slavery.
I hate doing laundry in this city. Walking a pile of dirty clothes and linen down three flights of stairs and up three snowy blocks is shit. And I simply can't bring myself to pay them to touch my dirty clothes-- another trust issue.
Not much else going on. When I read the daily paper, particularly the shit on politics, I wonder what world these people belong to. Seems like a bunch of aliens are running around, talking jibberish to each other and going ballistic. Maybe everyone needs to stay sick in bed today, to save us from the bullshit.
What's the best remedy for plugged ears, stuffy nose, itchy throat, coughing fits, and no clean underwear?
Fluffin' and foldin',
taking' this toilet roll to that nose,
Kat La Chatte
New York Shitty
Monday, 1/22/01, 4PM