tomato allergy
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About: Late-twenties Chicago cat lady rides bike, complains.
best date night

1. fancy pizza

2. read books in bed together for hours, legs all tangled to make enough space not to disturb a sleeping cat

3:00 a.m.

The problem with cat ownership is that at any fluttering awake during the night Hilda will leap up from the bottom of my bed and climb all over me, butting her furry head into my face and making her hungry meow, which is unfortunately the most squawk-like of all meows, and then I will be wide awake at three o’clock in the morning writing really long sentences on the internet and mourning the loss of any gains and/or pride I had about getting to bed before midnight.

Mike says that stay-at-home cat-mom is not a viable back up career option but look at this face.

Mike says that stay-at-home cat-mom is not a viable back up career option but look at this face.

problems I am currently having
  • Four of my students have the same first name and I cannot remember which is which when I look at my roster without looking at my case notes
  • They turned off the heat in my office, I think, meaning that I am hunched at my desk wearing a big sweater and a hat and looking like a real doofus
  • The day that I am trying to start eating better is the day that Ed invited me to ride bikes to the Tastee Freez (I mean, whatever, it is fine, this is not so much a problem so much as the ongoing saga of bodies and feelings and being a lady and whatever else)
  • I got a personalized rejection letter today and don’t know how to feel about it, or if it is actually personalized, or what that means, or why I would get a lovely but awkward letter wishing me well from the director of a department that did not even interview me but clearly did read my application?
  • I have applied to thirty jobs and have gotten zero interviews despite having a really strong resume and several years of experience and an almost-Masters degree and am going to starve and die, which at least that way no one will have to pay for my student loans, so that’s cool
signs of spring

- Desire for and execution of potato salad

- Large-wheeled car playing very loud reggaeton, the sort of loud that I could feel on my bicycle when it passed me

- The Unique Thrift no longer has a sweater section

saturday night

Tonight I did not behave, because when you are my age behaving means not having a haphazard sommersault contest and not having your neighbor suggest you be quieter, but hey, I had a really lovely evening.

It is early, or it feels early, and I am on the first off-peak metro north out of New Haven on a train that makes more stops than I want to but hey, a five dollar savings and who am I kidding, I like this train ride.

The conductor has two six inch braids in his beard, one at each corner of his mouth, and the train is not crowded. It is not early by commuter standards, only by mine. 

I spent the night at my parents’ house last night, and this morning my father woke me before my alarm, which is a thing I knew would happen and made me grumpy but also relieved. I have only spent five or so nights at my parents’ in the past two years, and it is good to know how things are, the constants, even if it is only my father’s incredulity that it does not take me an hour to get out of the house. 

But I got to the train station an unprecedented more than a half hour early, which left plenty of time to buy coffee and take an artsy ceiling and nostril shot, so there you go, good morning.

It is early, or it feels early, and I am on the first off-peak metro north out of New Haven on a train that makes more stops than I want to but hey, a five dollar savings and who am I kidding, I like this train ride.

The conductor has two six inch braids in his beard, one at each corner of his mouth, and the train is not crowded. It is not early by commuter standards, only by mine.

I spent the night at my parents’ house last night, and this morning my father woke me before my alarm, which is a thing I knew would happen and made me grumpy but also relieved. I have only spent five or so nights at my parents’ in the past two years, and it is good to know how things are, the constants, even if it is only my father’s incredulity that it does not take me an hour to get out of the house.

But I got to the train station an unprecedented more than a half hour early, which left plenty of time to buy coffee and take an artsy ceiling and nostril shot, so there you go, good morning.

Hartford, Connecticut
scenes from logan square

Sparks and I are drinking beer and eating cheese on the stoop while across the street four men of color are being searched by the cops for standing around in the park.

tuesday morning

Nothing to start your goddamn day off like a man with no teeth telling you he likes a woman with big legs.

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