Thought and thought until I lost my mind - 05.21.03 - 1:16 am
Look!

Today was all right in regards to THAT. May and I went to the graveyard after I got off work and we smoked a bunch of cigarettes.

OK, fuck the all right.

May told me about this thing she found online that his mom wrote about six months before he died. I just read it and holy shit. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. It's about how she's so proud of him and how he's turning his life around. I can't tell if I'm more angry or sad or both, but what I do know is the irony is fucking killing me.

I don't know. Nothing I say about it will make any sense without me posting the link and I'm not about to do that.

Let's change the subject. And, just for shits and giggles, how about I keep it depressing as hell? Yeah, that's what I thought.

I was taking back some books from this lady tonight and she told me that the woman who had checked them out had recently passed away. This is the fourth time this has happened to me.

That kills me, you know? You're holding these books and wondering which one was the last one that the person read and if they even got to finish it.

The worst, though, is when there's still a bookmark between the pages.

OK, I'm done with the sad shit. Change the subject, part two.

Tiny Dancer came in tonight and May and Vicky got to see him scuttle about, glaring at me. Yeah, I said glaring. I am actually scared of the wee little man now. When he came in, he gave me the usual vicious "Hey, Molly" like I had just dumped him or something. Then, I was talking to my supervisor over by where he was sitting and the bastard starts loudly throwing the newspapers back in the slots and stomping around and shit. He even freaked out my supervisor.

What. The. Fuck.

The man has issues. Scary issues not fit for Oprah.

I'm disappointed, too, because May's brother said he was going to come in when Tiny Dancer was there and pretend to be my boyfriend. That would be so cool cuz May's brother is all tough and shit and maybe Tiny Dancer would stop fucking looking at me like that if he thought I had a way tougher boyfriend. Shit, my great-grandma is tougher than Tiny Dancer and she's been dead for almost twenty years.

Damn. I just really thought about how much shit I have to do before I leave. Granted, I'll only be gone for a couple days but still. I have done NOTHING. Not a thing. And I leave my house at 4 in the morning on Thursday.

Ha ha. This will be fun.

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