I can't write as rapidly as you and am terribly glum. So you can be my stunted soundboard. Saw you g chatted and texted about the day, it went fine. Money is out of my control, Andrew is there to work and do the excellent job that he does in a kitchen. He seemed distant today but
who isn't sometimes? I took him out for a drink after work and it was all very rote, erm...perfunctory. I don't care. I have enough shit on my plate. I truly hope everyone does the right thing and pays you what they owe. These situations are
hideous and end friendships. Money issues end everything now that I think about it. I'm smoking a cigarette and drinking the last bit of some divine wine but have barely touched the massive pile of unread papers, books, etc. Perhaps I'm turning into Scott but without the visual
gobbeldygook.
Your friend Mirna sounds quite bombastic, I'll take the blows as they come with good natured aplomb. Listening to honky tonk "heartaches by the number...troubles by the score...." god knows what...
My apartment sounds like a supermarket in Memphis. Grim. I think they call them Piggly Wiggly's. What a dreadful name....As if the C-Town's of the NYC ghetto is better. Roseanne Cash I think was the singer.
G chatting with you is oddly comforting late at night although it implies a mutual sadness. Or not. Frightened Rabbit is the next track...Scotland. "Swim until you can't see land" Veddy Scottish eh?
Not bad. Perhaps I draw for a bit.
Wish I could be more helpful. Goodnight Barriticus.