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Hello, Friday.
March 30, 2007I'm on my second can of delicious guilt-free coffee. Yes, that's what it says so on the label, and now that I'm 24 and my waistline isn't getting any smaller, I think there are worse vices in the world than getting drunk on caffeine. I hunker before my monitor and try shaking my brain into worker ant mode. But the objects on my desk prove too distracting, and instead of churning out sentences as I've been told to do, I end up admiring the fragile, white-crepe Japanese lamp sitting on my table. It really is pretty, this lamp. And it really is cluttered, my desk.
Speaking of clutter, I am going to spend my time littering the world with reminders that at one point, I, too, had been among the mass of humanity who led "lives of quiet desperation." I'm going to leave cluttered proof of my existence everywhere so that when I die, people are going to break into wild, abandoned weeping every time they think of me, perhaps because they miss me or because they are just so relieved I have left God's beautiful Earth.
Ah yes, hello, Friday.
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