Sunday, February 22, 2009


Lately I’ve come to see all of the mundane little mishaps of my day to day existence in terms of grand totalizing metaphors for my life. The results are not particularly poetic and the comparisons are pretty awkward to begin with. For example, the electric toothbrush I received from my mom for Christmas crapped out on me after about a month of faithful service. I had long since thrown away my man-powered toothbrush and even found myself reflecting on it as old-fashioned and quaint, my brushing routine irrevocably modified. Too cheap or too lazy to replace the batteries, I now find myself (and it’s been well over a month) holding the clunky handled gadget, wistfully pushing the button down a couple of times and thinking well of course this was bound to happen to ME, as if I were the only person to ever encounter a finite energy source.

On Friday I set the fire alarm off for the entire student apartment complex that I live in. At 5 AM. Yup Jerky McAsshole strikes again. I was writing a paper and had decided to make myself a little snack. All I had was spinach, so I put that on the stove with a little bit of water and promptly forgot about it, seeing as I was totally absorbed in writing a paper and all. Fifteen minutes later I heard that familiar sound which in years past may have indicated “wake up, you’re on fire” but now only means that someone is steaming broccoli somewhere within a five mile radius.

Everyone had the evacuate the building and the fire brigade arrived within five minutes, ready to hose down the son of a bitch who woke them up before dawn for no goddamn reason. Shivering in the cold (60 degrees is downright frigid for a retirement town). I watched the spectacle unfold, lit up a cigarette and kept my mouth shut.

It took 30 minutes to shut off the alarm. My guilt only increased in the morning when I heard 5 or 6 different people gripping on their cell phones about it. I hoped that none of my roommates would rat me out (there has to be some sort of implicit loyalty pact…) and told myself that I was going to bake cookies for everyone in the building (or at least enough for my roommates , as a bribe to keep everything hush-hush). I planned on attatching little notes saying “sorry to cause alarm <3 Anna.” They would have to forgive men then: a pun, so pathetic and so heartfelt was sure to endear me to all the potential haters and I could clear my conscience once and for all. But by the time I got out of class, I was so tired from pulling an all-nighter that I just collapsed on my bed and fell asleep. That’s me: my good intentions might actually mean something if I wasn’t so tired all the time.

As for the rest of the weekend… I scaled a barbed wire fence and ended up in a retirement enclave.

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