.a day in the life.

today i woke up at 10:30. damn you, daylight savings. lost an hour already. i say goodmorning to my cat, who chirps with glee and hops down from his post to wait by his food bowl for breakfast. i slosh some dry, round kibbles in his silver bowl. a handful of strays spill and bounce on teh kitchen hardwood floor. i twist open the silver turkish coffee pot and dump yesterday's grounds. the sink is full of dishes, dried catfood in cermaic bowls, all but one of my spoons. i spill coffee grounds in a semi-circle on the counter, and put the pot on the burner.

i crawl back in bed with a full nalgene and turn on reruns of the oc. i think that i am too much like seth cohen, only he is skinnier and has a staff of talented writers to ensure impeccable wit.

after drinking half of pot of turkish espresso with sugar and rice milk, i lift my red night shirt over my head and toss it on a shelf in my closet. i throw my underwear in the laundry basket and turn on the shower. the water is cold and i shiver as soon as i step in. i use apricot scrub on my face and hope good skin holds out until tuesday.

sara picks me up at one, and i wait in her truck while she wipes off her windows. we drive north on i-5 to lila's basement apartment. we pet a beagle on the street: eight years old, pregnant, with no teeth. her nipples are swollen and stick out like fat, pink cactus buds. her name is harmony.

at lila's house, i pour myself a glass of water and start to cry. lila apologizes for being hard on me, and i lay my head on sara's skinny shoulder. sara and lila drink coffee with organic cream in diner mugs, and then we load up the couch in sara's truck. it sticks out, of course, a good two feet past the end of the bed. lila sits between us in the cab, with no seat belt. lila is hungover, and her hair is thick and shiny in a neat ponytail.

we leave the couch in the driveway of its new home. a black lab puppy whines from the backyard, and i open the gate to rub its ears. it pees and wags its tail. we cover the couch in a clean sheet and a muddy sheet of plastic, weighed down with a few dozen rocks from the garden.

we drive to the nursery and look at bird-feeders, watering cans shaped like ant-eaters, seeds and gardening gloves. i buy marigolds and a hose to irrigate the vegetable garden.

we stop for pho at the family dive down the street from sara's house: $4.25 for a small bowl.

at sara's house, i meet her two new roommates. jeff is tall, lanky, with a straight nose and clean skin. his close are clean, and his hair is blonde. he smiles easily and naturally. he is handsome and eager. i like him. james has slick curly hair and white teeth. he is skinny and shy. i like him as well, but he lacks jeff's warmth and ease.

we smoke sweet, giddy pot from jeff's bong and play a matching game recommended by mensa. sara drives us home. i pet gordon, and pour him more dry food. i fill up my nalgene and climb back into bed with my laptop. i watch 'the good girl,' staring jennifer aniston and jake gylenhall. the sun is just beginning to set. i think about having a glass of wine, but it isn't chilled. is it pathetic to start drinking whisky?

it's been raining all day.