dangerous compassions

I call you / from the comet's cradle

Sunday, February 03, 2008

lull

Life is SAT scoring. Erik sits in his blue chair, listening to nature tracks, with Kitty sleeping on his lap. Sometimes Kitty snores or twitches in his sleep. Erik absentmindedly pets him.

The house gets messier and messier. The laundry goes unwashed. Letters are unanswered. Emails are ignored. The letters pile up on my desk, and I look at them but feel 100 miles away from picking up a pen and replying. The only thing I use a pen for is keeping track of my hours. Here's what that looks like for today.

8:53 - 9:03 10
12:50 - 1:40 50
1:59 - 2:57 60
4:38 - 5:08 30
7:02 - 7:18 16
7:24 - 7:39 15

Sometimes a kid will say something funny, and we'll laugh, but when I miss a check set, I feel like crying. It's a dejected feeling, and there's nothing to do with it. There's no one to be mad at. My boss is somewhere on the east coast, and I don't know who he or she is.

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