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This Entry is Regarding Manners and Building Maintenance.


There is a marking on the desk-- and I should say it is one of the nicest, newest desks-- that is, I believe, a declaration of love.


Heart Heart Heart.
The janitors have approved of the edits, for the edits have endured, despite being penciled in.


Sometimes while I am walking through the hospital at strange hours of the night, I imagine that I have a sort of covenant with the janitorial staff... that they know which are the Most Important works of vandalism, the ones that should be left even on the nicest of desks, just so that, at any moment when a student sits in Dewey 2-110A asking themselves, "How will I survive this?" and "May I shut my eyes or walk out or quit, even?" that they may instead be preoccupied with much more important issues of Intrigue and Romance.

Of course, it is not even the same janitorial staff. But I believe in the power of the Secret Underground Network, and on Monday mornings I believe that I am a very hurried doctor, being paged, and listening most intently to the announcements overhead, and on Tuesdays I believe that I am walking through, invisible, and other days back-lit as on Touched by an Angel. There are usually more things happening that aren't then happening that are, if you see what I mean.

Oh, and as ever there are so many things for taking care of and tending to and responding to, but I am very wrapped up and all, you see, in all of these unhappenings to me. This is late, and that is late, and there was something that I told myself and forgot to say out loud. --

Something you wouldn't believe: I went out dancing. I put on my best and brightest tights and best and brightest wig and went downtown. I saw that man there, he stood next to me, not dancing, wearing a Hat and a Long Coat and he was very, very stupid looking, I thought to myself-- which I was glad about, since he seems to care so much about his Outside-- and I was afraid, as he stood behind me for so long, that he might kidnap me. Still, I was glad that, if he did, I could at least say See, I Told You He Was A Complete Scuzz-Bucket! Well, at any rate, it was interesting to see him doing some activity that was not self-indulgent, unless he was in fact getting pleasure from standing motionless among the dancers, and really, nothing surprises me anymore.

You may as well not sign your secrets with your name.

So that this may digress properly, or be linked poorly, or fall apart shortly: from now on only the handicap bathroom stalls shall be lit. As for those using the remaining stalls, it is the dark from now on, so as that we might conserve energy and also conceal the identity of those who choose to take their phone calls while peeing.

She was saying what a terrible habit it is to end every conversation with, "Have a nice day!" and instead I thought, but a much worse habit to end every conversation with, "Enjoy the movie!"


( 3 comments — Leave a comment )
Feb. 9th, 2010 02:20 am (UTC)
Sigh. If this is supposed to be some sort of explanation, it is even more cryptic than the message itself. Of course, this comes as no surprise to me; but I now require explanation of the explanation if that is what this is. (semicolons are my new hobby)
Feb. 9th, 2010 02:33 am (UTC)
In fact, I see no explanation in this. Just explanation of why there is no explanation. Of course, I am probably entirely wrong.
Feb. 9th, 2010 06:35 pm (UTC)
Really though, all I can actually figure out is the paragraph about Keats.
( 3 comments — Leave a comment )



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