Velouria (velouria) wrote,

Thursday's Child.

Lady at Work: I can see your bra.

Me: You can?

Lady at Work: Only constantly.

Well lucky you. 20 bucks and I'll show you the rest. Later I was pushing a dolly around some sharp corners to go pick up the 2 grand worth of pink envelopes I'd ordered and I hit the edge of a (different) work lady's cubicle with it. Wasn't familiar with this one. So she throws her papers up in the air and screams like we're in an Edvard Munch painting, causing me to completely drop the dolly and thus make even more noise than was necessary. I said "I'm sorry," and she just continued to look at me incredulously with her hands still over her ears for a full minute or so. That was pleasant.

Back at home, and I'm hauling little televisions down the stairs and hurling them into the dumpster. I'm not sure why I've collected so many. Digging through a box of crap in a closet, I found a bunch of candles I used to burn when I first moved here. They remind me of the summer I moved in and was happy about it.  I had my independence and my hubcaps. No furniture though.
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