when you’re not looking, somebody’ll sneak up and write fuck you right underneath your nose

i’m cleaning in preparation for the kidling’s arrival next saturday. i started with the messiest room, my “office.” allegedly it’s supposed to be the dining room, but since i don’t have a dining room table or any of that dining paraphernalia, i’ve settle oberon and the desk in here.

i’ve stumbled up on my planner circa 1995. it’s filled with appointments for people i cannot remember anymore. it’s a keith haring planner. sister #2 bought it for me as a christmas gift in 1994. i have absolutely no need for this planner at all. it’s got catcher in the rye quotes scribbled all over it, phone numbers i can’t remember. i’m suprised it’s not moldy or something. it’s sorta warped and icky because i left it on the front seat of sugar when it rained. yes, my window was left open.

throwing it away is proving to be more difficult than i imagined. it’s really of not any use at all. unless of course for reason’s that i can’t quite forsee i will need to know that on June 26, 1995 i had to meet with someone named Bruce at the Fire Station at 1 p.m., someone named Brunner at 3:30 someone on Highway 93– a house with a split fence of some sort and that on the 28th there was something going on at Luther Hospital at 12:30 and i had to be at Embers at 2 p.m.

i dunno why i keep it. but i think i will throw it in the old trunk filled with my yearbooks and what not. maybe someday i’ll toss it, but tonight i can’t.

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