It Feels Like September

I’m thinking about buying a new couch. I’m thinking about buying a tea kettle. I’m thinking about buying a jumpsuit, maybe black denim overalls. A plane ticket to Poland?

Summer of mirrors. Something like me, maybe you, the world, trying to be honest with itself. No one really wants to turn the mirror—it’s too shocking. I think I felt embarrassed with my therapist today a few times. But I’m rationalizing that that’s part of the job, for both of us. Then I worked. Then I biked to Home Depot to get paint. I forgot Home Depot is canceled. Actually, that’s a lie. I remembered on my way there and still went. I needed paint for the living room wall. I thought it was called Sherwin Williams “Needle in the Hay,” but turns out it’s actually Sherwin Williams “Knitting Needles.” Not my first choice. It sucks everything is an advertisement. But I think maybe when people read stories even two hundred years ago they wanted to borrow people’s personalities, too. We’re complex beings—so much unraveling, exploring, creating, we’re all looking or not looking to do. After the errand I did my laundry, turned on the recommended jazz album, opened a bottle of wine. Now I’m cooking a steak dinner for one.

Seven Complex

At some point during quarantine I started associating the number seven with smoothies. This is because the smoothie I get from Corner Stone Café costs seven dollars. Not bad, I know. I realized after Joey said something about the number and I reflexively started craving it. There was nothing I wanted more in that moment. But after awhile, the number seven came to the forefront again, in a new way. There is this word game I play on an app, Wordscapes, but it gets annoying because, after each round, a number of ads for different apps come up. I’m uninterested in the other apps, in fact I’m very happy with just the one word game I play on my phone. After some clicking around, I found out it costs seven dollars to get rid of ads on Wordscapes. This seems ridiculous to me, on many levels. I guess you could call Summer 2020 the summer I started obsessing about the number seven. Ha-ha.

 

The other day Taylor said Fox News called protesters “Joe Biden voters.”

People should question their motives more.

I thought maybe I wouldn't tell anyone about this, just keep it to myself

Yesterday, on my way east, I got a phone call. I was waiting to answer because an ambulance was driving by. Just after it passed, I noticed my bike chain had unattached from its gear wheel and got caught within my right pedal. I ended up missing the call when I pulled over to fix the chain. It was really raveled, so I was at it for awhile. After a few minutes, a man and woman, also on bike, pulled over to ask if I was ok. I said yes, I was, that it was just my chain. The man insisted he help—at first he told me what to do, guiding me to pedal backwards so the chain could unwind, but it didn’t work right away. Then he said do you mind? I wanted him to get away as quickly as possible, not because I hate men, but because I had an emotionally exhausting day (hence the trip). I told him I didn’t mind and he fixed it pretty quickly. I felt like I had done most of the work before he stepped in, but I didn’t mention anything. Both of our hands looked fucked up from the grease after he fixed it. The woman offered me hand sanitizer, which I used, since I had run out of my own the day before. I got back on my bike and rode the rest of the way to the lake. I undressed quickly and jumped immediately into the water.

Tape Recorder

It is easier to contort my body in the morning. 

I’ve been doing yoga six days a week and some days I am considerably happier than I felt last month. 

PAWS has been ignoring my calls, and never calling back. Joey says I should text them a picture of myself—the implication being that I could show them what they’re missing. 

I try to get myself to laugh a lot throughout the day. 

It’s hard to laugh a lot if you’re alone. Is there a saying about comedy needing at least two people? 

I want to get a tape recorder—and not because a character in the book I’m reading just got one, I’ve wanted one for a long time. 

Last night, after thinking about buying a tape recorder, I remembered a time Sara and I spoke into one over a taco dinner, about a year ago. 

I wondered if Jackson will ever hear what I said into the tape recorder that night. I wondered how his feelings for me would change after listening to my words. 

I can’t remember what I said.