Fabric Softener Is For Wimps

I am tired and am waiting for my laundry to dry. I came home from work and had to deep clean my apartment because someone is coming to look at it because I am getting closer and closer to leaving. I love this apartment. It isn't big, it isn't fancy, but it is the closest thing to home that I have. It's my 6 th floor tomb, my penthouse nook, my roof top hideaway. I don't answer the door unless I know you're coming, and I obied by a strict "no pants" policy (not for guests). It feels weird showing it to strangers, especially since my walls are covered in happy thoughts and representations of who I am and who I want to be. This all might sound a bit much, when you live alone and spend that mass majority of you time in a very small studio, you begin to look at it as much more then just a place to hang your hat. Or at least that's just me.

It seems I kind of gave myself food poisoning over the weekend, or at least made myself sick. I have been eating more or less just chicken, vegetables, and fruit for a while now, and I am pretty sure I might have not cooked something through. Sometime I get to listening to NPR and things can can go forgotten. Either way, my stomach had started its mutiny while I was at the bookstore chatting with a friend I had run in to, and followed in to last night. It was like a reverse Salzburg and Skipper wasn't around to call Dr. VanDyke or heterosexual Mika. It sucked, and I was the only one to blame. I had plans to meet a good friend of mine before he leaves for Paris and ended up once again cancelling on him and spending the day in bed watching rented movies on iTunes. I did however have two great conversations with Chef Doug though. We have gotten in to this odd yet nice habit of talking on Sundays, not once, but twice. I usually call Dr.Sylvia and Chef Doug between six and seven in the morning just to make sure they haven't left the house yet (Except for my sister, we are all early risers), and then he usually calls me a couple hours later and we talk some more. Chef Doug is a really good guy, and we are extremly similar in sometimes difficult ways, but the more I realize that we share the same flaws it also becomes clear that there is a huge amount of help to be had from someone who has had years dealing with the same stuff. Not to mention we have the whole profession thing in common. The longer I spend away from both the Chef and the good Doctor, the more I am able to look at them for who they are then for what they are. I guess I am just thankful that we are able to conversations and not only arguments.

Ok, laundry's done!

Tonight's highlight:

"...but there was something definitely rootless about him, as though no town nor city was his, no street, no walls, no square of earth his home. And that he carried this knowledge with him always as though it were a banner, with a quality ruthless, lonely, and almost proud."

Light In August, William Faulkner
(pink highlighter: thin and thick limes)