21 January 2007

I really do hate chainsaws

9:00 AM on Sunday is no time to rev up your chainsaw. At first I blamed Craig, our neighbor across the street, because it seemed to be coming from that direction and I could sort of forgive him because I know he works during the week. Then I realized it was coming from next door: retired Larry, or more probably Larry minions.

After about ten minutes, I groped through a couple drawers and pulled out some earplugs. It was quiet for a while, but then I could still make out the muffled high-pitched whine.

Eventually I crashed out and had a dream in a high school setting which involved my locker being destroyed and feeling like I was wearing ear plugs even after I'd pulled them out in the dream. Also, my knees completely gave out and I started to fall. There was the briefest moment where I decided not to grab for the wall of lockers (like I expect I would in life), but instead reached for the young guy friend who'd been walking the halls with me, subjecting him to dead weight. I could tell that I kind of liked him which made my choice all the stranger. There was nothing romantic about hanging on to him with my arms around his neck, regaining the strength in my knees and legs. If anything, my sudden near collapse was alarming to him, but when my equilibrium was restored, he just set out to help me with my mangled locker. It looked beyond repair to me: bent, missing the door's hinges, installed upside down; I started looking for an empty locker, bigger and better than the one I'd had before.

One year ago at TTaT: Note to self
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