I open my bedroom door to see a trail of Ferrero Rochers leading to a twentydollar bill. I genuinely can’t tell if he’s fucking with me or not. --
I’ve been eyeing these antique wooden clogs that my mother’s interior designer no doubt spent a small fortune on all morning. They used to be on the floor but now they sit in a glass case, perched on top of a stack of first editions no one has ever touched.
Monday April 13
6:30pm
3:33pm
I’ve had the clogs on all day. I’m pretty sure I’ve ruined our floors. I also tore the binding off Doctor Zhivago when I tried to open it with one hand because I was holding a cocktail in the other and dropped it.
th
Unsolicited (but with great fanfare!) my father uses poker chips to explain the stock market to me while I’m sitting at the kitchen counter trying to work. He’s demonstrating how I should “diversify my investments” with blue poker chips and tells me in complete seriousness that I shouldn’t “try to beat the market, not now, not ever”.
I’ll get away with the book, but I’m fucked for the floors. --
I don’t have the heart to tell him I have exactly $423 plus the $20 gave me yesterday to diversify right now and was planning on asking him for money at dinner.
Thursday, April 16
--
I’m sitting on the porch, staring at spider webs and giving the bare minimum on a conference call. About 30 minutes into the call I start thinking about the possibility that we are about to enter into a world of two kinds of people, the Immunes and the Non- Immunes, and they will have two very different standards of living.
Tuesday April 14
th
6:55pm My parents leave to go back to Atlanta, and I start a kitchen fire about an hour later in an attempt to pour a bottle of cold white wine into a pan of piping hot oil when the recipe calls for low heat and a splash. Symbolism not-withstanding, all I can think about when I see the flames jump up is having to all be stuck together again if I burn this house down. -Wednesday April 15
th
10:30am
th
4:55pm
While I should be thinking of so many other things, all I can think about is how my inferiority complex will fare in this new dystopia. I wonder if we’ll all have to carry papers or badges, and if there will be Immune parties that I’m not invited to.