I'm still living in my head. That wasn't in the plan.
At least the skies are clear. And no moon in sight. Here I am in Kern County, near my grandmother's ashes. Library full of college students and old women in turquoise jewelry. Me in emotional armor. And my underpants showing. Need to buy thread and needle to keep my pants up until payday.
Po has stopped dragging her butt across the floor seductively and has gone back to chewing off my fingers. She's so mean. I ordered a manual self-cleaning litter box, the kind where you roll the thing across the bathroom floor and watching the balls of poop drop into a compartment, then you roll it back upright and take the drawer of poop out to empty. Po showed her appreciation by flipping onto her back and shredding my arm. Worst Valentine's Day ever.
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