dad suggested last night that living alone is good for me. i think he'll ultimately be right, but i'm still learning to remind myself that i'm not a lightning rod. not entitled to the king lear routine.
charlie ultimately survived his fall, though his status was questionable for a while. he landed on his head (said the surgeon) and split his palate in two: imagine a straight line from your front teeth to your uvula. like that, thus blood. he also tore up his front paws, though i have yet to figure out where he fell or what he might have grabbed. he ran a fever and needed oxygen and sub-q fluids for three days, but he is home and himself, mostly.
jude picked up conjunctivitis while charlie was gone, so i brought cat 1 home on friday night and took cat 2 in on saturday. was still feeling sorry for myself when we both came home last night, so i went to the corner market for a beer - just one, as i had to be at work at eight this morning. grabbed the garage door opener instead of the keys (same shape); didn't have my uncle/landlord's phone number; assumed 1) he was probably in sonoma anyway but 2) a cab ride to the sunset and back couldn't possibly cost more than a
locksmith: the deadbolt your boyfriend installed is very good. i'll have to destroy it.i'd put a padlock on top of the deadbolt, so destroying the lock was no good, as we had no electric saw. back to the front door / apartment door, where (contrary to what he'd predicted) the guy jiggled a piece of plastic at each frame and the things practically giggled and opened. i got a $15 discount becasue the back door was destroyed rather than opened, but ultimately i paid $50 (kill deadbolt) + $65 (front door) + $65 (my door) + $35 ("nighttime fee") + tax. one beer = $240.
lauren: so how did you...learn to pick locks?
locksmith: [shiftily] locksmith school. they show you all of the tricks and then drop you into the water. some swim. some drown. [pause] that's the way things are.
locksmith: i'm in my van with your bill and i'm thinking, you said you put the padlock on the back door because your cat fell out the window. doesn't he land on four legs? you must replace him.i did get the guy to teach me how to pick locks with coke bottles. as for the $240 beer - i could hate myself, but it's over.
drove to work at 7:30, comatose from waking up with the cat all night. stopped at the supermarket, traded my last two bucks to kick up a nice coffee smell in the car. mix tape popped on to "papa was a rodeo". good morning.
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