4/21/2016

Storage, screams, and boredom

Monday:  My life is a mess, or my apartment is a mess. Well, maybe it's the bathroom that's a mess ... especially the counter with all those pill bottles and hair goo and mouthwash that won't fit in the drawers or in the cabinet below the lavatory.  Maybe Target holds the answer to my life.  Target is a mess with a leaking roof . Target has giant jellyfish catheter bags hanging from the ceiling in many departments and only two cashiers and the customers are getting properly pissed disgruntled. My life is looking better and the bathroom storage solution only cost $42.

Heavy Duty Drain Tarps Help Redirect Leaks From Ceiling Through A Drain Port.
Tuesday: Am I bored with my Breakfast Blog, or just bored with making breakfast? Why am I up to two mornings per week bribing myself with Einstein bagels to creep into the shower and get the day going? The employees at Einsteins know my name. Sometimes you want to go....

Wednesday a.m.: Yes, he is still there, the young/old person camping out under one of the thirty-seven High Five bridges, but now over on the east side of the 75 Expressway instead of the west.  The concrete supports create a sleeping berth and shelves for his/her belongings. I spy a cooler, a burgundy nylon sleeping bag, and maybe a boombox with my little eye.



Wednesday p.m.: I'm still not sure which bridge exactly, but I worry about the new resident rolling over in the night down the slope into traffic. What could be more of a deserted island than this spot you can't get to from here, you can't check out or ever leave. A half million of us weaving under and around and over the interchange everyday feel we can't get anywhere without moving through this place of his/her complete isolation.

Thursday: The periodicals room is screaming at 9:15 a.m. Librarian noir? 650 _0 $aHomicide investigation$xFiction. No, a computer back-up battery has died under a desk, oozing a chemical goo that ruins wood finish,  If the person under the High Five falls out of bed who will hear the scream? I buy cream-of-wheat and taco shells at Tom Thumb, then store myself on my ledge.

Cheers!

© 2013-2016 Nancy L. Ruder

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