Day Seventyfive

I have this pair of white pumps. I haven't worn them in awhile. They're not too high, but are fairly narrow and very pointy. So pointy that my feet look a great deal bigger than they actually are. I don't remember what made me, but I tried them on last night and they weren't as bad as I remembered. They made my legs look nice. And I'm kind of leg-conscious, so I'd probably be willing to wear Hello Kitty print shoes as long as they compliment my pins. Jez however didn't approve of the pointiness, probably secretly afraid they'll find themselves between his legs the next time he upsets me. Throw them out, he said. I mentally noted that far from throwing them out, I'll be wearing them again tomorrow. Then I walked down the stairs at the train station and nearly tripped over the long pointy front part of the shoe. I think I might retire them after all.

Riveting story, no?

Eugene is turning into a menace. I wouldn't say he was ever nice, but he used to be such a docile guy. Sleeping at the dispensary desk. Reading the Sun Herald. Dozing off at the computer. Resting on the couch. Slowly he has become grumpy and cranky and refers to me and my friends as "Generation X, always about me, me, me", despite the fact that he is only about a fifth of a generation ahead of us.

Today I put on Plastic Tree on Youtube to substitute for the radio which wasn't playing anything particularly interesting. I minimise the window thinking that the old man might complain about the androgyny and I was right.

"What is this shit. Who is this guy? Is that even a guy? That's not right. I'm turning it off."

Later, we stood outside the front door to get a glimpse of the good weather and I asked him what's up with the new mean streak. He said it was my influence.

"I hope I never bump into you out of work. That would be so wrong." He said.

"I don't think I'd want to see you outside of work either, it's like seeing an animal out of the zoo." I shot back.

He was greatly offended and swore that if we ever ran into each other on a day other than Sunday he'd pretend I didn't exist.

At 2:00 pm I was in the middle of vacuuming and he kicked me out.

I went to Jez's house after work to study, but didn't get to until 6:00 pm. Because see the thing is, we're always having sex, which is cool, but what's not cool is the sleeping that comes afterwards. I'm normally a little tired, but don't have a problem or difficulties in getting up and dressed, especially with motivators like completing my antiepileptic drug table and Coco Pops. Jez on the other hand is a rock. I could insert a pineapple into his rectum and he'd sleep through it. I knew he hated waking up three hours later to realise how much time has been lost, so this afternoon I try to nudge and push and slap him awake.

He pulls me next to him and doesn't even open his eyes.

"Spoon." He commands and I grudgingly oblige. "Sleep."

We wake up hours later and he blames me for lack of persistence. I forget what I was going to say next because we bought Sueño and there was some left and I was thinking "I want to take that with me to drink on the train" and I forgot and now I'm craving Sueño.