So far there're around fifty things I want to do to-day. So I probably won't do any of them because I spit in the face stuffs.
Well, no, I'm actually gonna do stuff.
Yester-day, in case you're wondering, was a lot of walking again. I think I startled a woman when I spontaneously helped her lift her baby's stroller over the trolley steps. It only occured to me after I had sat back down and'd been gazing out the window a bit that me--total young stranger in sinister black hat--rushing wordlessly forward to kneel in front of her infant, grasping the bottom of its stroller and lifting with all my strength, might've been unsettling. So much for the happy fantasy of the world of friendly neighbourhood people all about, ready to help those in need.
Was I complaining about the three cans of coke the other day? Ironic, now that they're gone and I miss them.
I'll have to get more. And video tapes too. Oh yes, and maybe hair gel.
I guess I haven't mentioned this here yet--on Sunday, when I was anxious all day and crazy, I started cutting my hair. I cut it a lot. It's very short now, but not so bad looking. I'm actually kind of proud of myself. But I think I might want hair gel.