Tweedle-Dee, I’m on the Internet Again

A Few Words of Advice

* Crap about the copier and the sweet-talker has been removed. It was mean. I am mean. *

I know. I shouldn’t write about work in this thing. Danger, Mama Snee! Danger!

It Continues
My toilet anxiety is getting worse, and now includes the fear that I may have left tampon wrappers lying around. There is much double-checking.

More on restrooms: I went for a bathroom break today during class, and I have no idea how long I was in there. At one point, I snapped back to reality and honestly had no concept of how long I’d been hanging out in the can. All I know is that I was late coming back to class.

I know public restrooms are generally disgusting and that it’s strange, when you think about it, to line up and disrobe from the waist down and eliminate into water bowls all in a row in a teensy room. And I know you think I think too much about the bathroom. But it is truly the only place at this point in my life where I am by myself and unseen/ unaccounted for. Yes, there is also the car, but I am expected to drive and pay attention and other pesky bullshit. I have no responsibility in the restroom stall, except to flush, and I obviously take this one charge very seriously. I’ve always felt this way about the special brand of privacy afforded by public restrooms, and even wrote a poem about it in college about pretending to play the violin behind the stall doors. And it was well received in workshop, I’ll have you know.

Stumpy Glove-Hands
I have to keep my nails ridiculously short now. Not that I ever grew them out gracefully, but I did tend to keep some uneven and jagged length at my fingertips. Because—and if you know me in real life you may already know—I am the itchiest person on the planet. And now I am itchy with no scratchy. Tops of the feet in particular.

Also, I had a crazy dream where a gigantic black owl/ hawk was perched on the side of the interstate bridge, in an ominous, dark-cloud-ish way, and people just kept on driving like it wasn’t even there.

Masterpiece Sneeatre:
An actual telephone exchange between me and A. He was at the grocery store, I was at home preparing to make pesto.

A: What else did you say you needed?

MS: Pine nuts.

A:So you only want one sack?

MS: Yes.

A: So I will bring home one nutsack, then.

MS. Please grab the nutsack and pay for it.

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