(no subject)
dear wednesday,
everybody hates this one lady in my office. she seems nice enough, to me. we've had two elevator sessions now. the first one she sized me up and i suppose tried to do a glare of steel when asking how i liked public relations so far. i like it just fine, i said. i said that. i say things like that. i stole the word "bromides" from a salinger novel and used it in an e-mail to my chemist boyfriend, who was utterly perplexed by my anachronistic affection for language from novels in the 1950s that really did use "goddamn" too much.
anyway, the lady.
today was our second elevator session. i held aloft a cookie, the soon-to-be consumed product of a soundly victorious lunch. she focused again, with her glaring look of steel. i actually braced myself, in the elevator, crept a little deeper into the corner. but! "after 4 you can buy those cookies half off, you know..." and my enthusiasm for discounted cookies just up and bubbled over. everybody hates her. but now, she is my staunchest ally.
dear wednesday,
i actually sort of hate you, because you are a day that sees matthew off to surburbia, straight out of his national cancer institute and straight into the pits of you. i resent you because of it. i would trail him to suburbia were it not for three things: having to wake up early, being in his hair when he needs to write papers and e-mails of academic importance, and the fact that every time i go to the suburbs of maryland i have the urge to consume my weight in vocelli pizza. no i'm not pregnant.
anyway he showed me where my liver was last night: i mean, not where it was, because i already knew that, but how it feels directly under your skin. i think i shrieked. have you ever felt it, really? it stands up so well to pressure; it almost feels alien. i am too visual a person for this! i shrieked, trying to move my fingers away. his hand was on top of mine. i like calling him doctor because that's what he is. but i really like calling him missster scientist like they do in south park. anyway. the liver. i think mine deserves a purple heart for what it's been through, specifically between the academic years of 2000-2004. it deserves a purple heart, and a pet name. these are the things that we do in our spare time as a couple. also wednesday i sort of hate you because it's the middle of october and i told him we could reinstate watching arrested development until the winter. and you're not the winter as it's seventy degrees.
i think i mortally wounded him when i said that the lipid bilayer was disgusting. i mean, not its process, okay? but just the standard illustration that every crappy high school textbook uses:
disgusting.
dear wednesday,
everything about this feels unfinished, and that's probably appropriate, because your placement in the week line-up all but guarantees that you'll never close the deal. wednesday. it's far too long away from you to even feel the sweet sweet loving of saturday. saturday always keeps up her end of the bargain, ok? last saturday gave me my own copy of rosemary's baby on dvd and a trip to a bonafide dog park. when are you going to offer me things like that, wednesday? never, that's when. i creeped my boyfriend out with rosemary's baby and it made me feel like a disaffected goth, how i didn't even care that satan or lucifer or whomever impregnated her. i consider the last ten minutes of that film to be fantastic, and i guess i'll be wearing black velour and renting a wiccan book from the library next.
dear wednesday,
let's call all of this animosity off and just go to atlantic city and get ourselves eloped.
