Monday, October 03, 2022

 11-2-00 Th 4:37 PM

Rochelle and I are sitting at the kitchen table, playing Scrabble. The dog got a new bed, but she's lounging in her old bed, contentedly mauling one of her stuffed animals. I was an "R" short of spelling "QUAVER" with "Q" in the triple word score. I also could have spelled "GUAVA" but didn't want to use my "U" without my "Q," so I had to settle for "VANE." I'm getting my ass kicked. I've come up with "GROGS," "WART," and "MOOT." Funny how they seem to apply to my life. Like Tarot cards or tea leaves. Rochelle has "SNOOZER" and "MOPED," the roots of both she has been doing a lot of lately. I typed fifteen minutes this morning. Rode my bike to school. Did the whole day. Staff meeting after school: Harvard said how hard she's working, from seven to seven every day, "and still got to keep a man, Mr. Zurn." Huh? Whatever. I rode my bike home with the business page tucked under my arm and read it at the red light because some day I'm going to be a stock trading, wheeler dealer, once I've gotten the mega-bucks advance on my second novel. The dog seems to have a bladder infection. She just pisses without squatting, wherever she's standing, like, for instance, my side of the bed. My stepsister called. She and Rochelle are on the phone now, and the game has been temporarily suspended. 7:53 PM I'm at Los Angeles High School to teach my night school class. 10:10 PM I'm back home. Should I have a wee smoke? I used this pencil to poke free a clog in the stem of the bowl of my water pipe. What else? I feel like going for a jog. I spilled bong tar all over the next page. A Frenchman tried to parachute onto the statue of liberty with a fan on his back, but the winds were too strong. The baby is real close. It seems like I ought to get on my knees and pray for her blessings. If I want her out, I better believing it. The election is days away. The stroller and the bag still need to be put in the trunk. The clock strikes eleven. A Victoria's Secret commercial. FRIENDS. Help me, God. Bless our bodies and souls. You might wanna have a backup plan.

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