“I’ve got a magazine I just subscribed to coming to the house, so don’t throw it away.”
“A magazine.”
“Yes, I subscribed to one. And I paid for it, so don’t you throw it away. That’s mah money.”
“What magazine?”
“A home style one. I figure if I’m going to be working in the magazine industry, I should at least read one.”
“Oooh, yes, you’re my little–oh–what’s the name of that… oh her name, her name… Ugly Betty.”
“Tchah!”
“Is that it?”
“Ahahahahaha!”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant. Elaine! Elaine!”
“Mum!”
“You’re Elaine, you’re working for Mr. Peterman! Ugly Betty does the fashion, I forgot, it’s Elaine that did the–the–”
“You called me Ugly Bettyyyyyyy.”
“I did not!”
“How dare you call me Ugly Betty! At least Anne Hathaway!”
“Oh I’m a sleepyhead, you know where I’m going with this.”
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Home. Home. Home.
Home home.
Fire!
Home. Home.
…Fire?
Cake?
Paper?
Read read read.
Home home. Home.
Caaaake?
Read read. Read read. Tom Jones. Read read.
SLEEP. SLEEP. HOT. HOT.
Read.
Home home.
Paper?
Free Swedish Fish?!
Home home. Home.
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“#465. I will be waiting a very long time.”
“Ouch, I hope you brought something fun to do.”
“I think I will just sleep.”
“Have you ever been put on a jury panel before?”
“Yes, the last time, six years ago. Now I’m back again. And after this one, maybe I can do one more time and then that’s it, because then I am too old.”
“Really?”
“Yes, 70 is too old. I am 66 now.”
“No you’re not! Are you really? You’re 66?”
“I am! Why?”
“You do not look 66. You look so much younger than that.”
“A lot of people say that to me.”
“That’s because a lot of people wish they could look that much younger.”
“I don’t know, I just try to stay happy and fit. I don’t worry about anything. Worry puts the wrinkle in the face.”
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Just so we’re all on the same page, and just in case I am too afraid to go through with it when the time comes and I need some written evidence that will force me: If I have to get a flat next year, I will get one that allows animals, and I will bring Moses. Amid everything I would like there, the things I hope to find there, I just can’t see myself looking out a window that he isn’t in. Also, I just kind of really miss his goofy little face right about now.
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There are days like these, when all I’ve been waiting for has passed, that I lay down and listen to the music I used to listen to, beg my heavy head to sink me into the mattress and down below, think that the color of the day is going to be all I see when I’m gone, and remember why I felt the way I felt when I felt the way I felt.
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I am honestly surprised that I am allowed a plus-one at the wedding, but I don’t know if I feel any better about it. One option insults, the other embarrasses.
How can this continue?
one