Last night, at the condo:
Me (grumpy and tired): *can’t find keys in the bag while in the elevator*
Me: *is now grumpier*
Elevator: Ding
Me: *walks to the door of the unit and sets bag on the floor* *practically empties bag* *is still in denial that she has left her damn keys in her damn room*
Me: Damn it.
Me: *knocks on door* *opens cell phone to call flatmate* *cell phone dies*
Me: Fuck!
Me: *remembers landlady’s unit number* *hurries over to this unit*
Guy in the Unit: Yes?
Me: Is <landlady> in here?
Guy in the Unit: Oh. No.
Me: *explains her situation* So you mean she doesn’t live here?
Guy in the Unit: No, she lives in <another unit in another building>. Do you have her number? I can text her. Come in.
Me: *stands around for a bit inside the unit* *which by the way looks better than the unit she rents* *what is up with that?* *aimless chatter* I’ll go knock again and see if anyone answers.
Me: *runs across the floor to get to her unit* *knocks like there’s a fire* *knocks like Marc Nelson is outside and is naked and damn it girls YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS* *runs back to the other unit*
Me: Can I plug in my phone? So sorry.
Landlady: Oh dear, I’m outside! We’ll be at the unit in ten minutes. Can you wait?
Me: *seriously doubts Landlady will be at the unit in 10 minutes* Okay! *calls flatmate* *flatmate answers* Hey, thanks for letting me stay here, there’s someone who can open my door now, okay bye!
Guy in the Unit: Um. Okay.
Me: *runs* *gets inside unit YES!* *meets another flatmate WHO HAS SPARE KEYS TO HER ROOM HALLELUJAH*
Keys: You dumb bitch.
* * *
When I got to the office today, on my table were (1) my mp3 player (2) my two flash drives. I didn’t even know I had left them there. And I even opened my laptop last night to fix this unfinished story (didn’t do it, watched sitcom episodes instead like a responsible writer). Usually my brain goes like this ~ laptop ~music ~ mp3 player ~ flash drives. Last night, nothing.
Me: *sees the stuff left behind* *suddenly experiences delayed panic*
* * *
Gawd, my brain, gawd.
* * *
I have a story that’s done but it bores me and it doesn’t seem to be working, so maybe I’ll spec-ficfy it. Spec-ficfy. Sounds weird.
* * *
The novella/novel moved forward a bit, and then stopped again. Gawd, my brain.
Gawd.
Eliza Victoria 