I used to shampoo with a bar of Ivory every morning.
The lighter with the black panther with a yellow-green
snake wrapped around it is acting up. A “talented and
versatile” Bay Area actress dies after “an accidental
plunge from a fire escape.” I plan to read aplenty.
Tonight alone I’ve finished three books. Bat latté.
Just no oomph. I haven’t tried the red stuff yet.
Ready for a shower, though. Is it because I had
lunch with Jamine at Pakwan’s today? Or sweets
on Sunday? Or the donut before Otto’s dinner
last night? Because now I have so much more
muscle from running. And waiting for a text
from Row. Who knows, etc.? I just don’t
like it. Starving myself on some guy with
huge, curly, rockstar hair; I’d think he was
a big woman if I didn’t hear his voice on
the other side. Again, who knows? Then
there was the woman (deaf?) who kept
not hearing her absurdly loud cellphone
blaring some (equally absurd) tune on the table.
