Monday, December 25, 2006
Imaginary trips to Kowalski's because for the first time in years I am actually lonely.
50 hundred million times a day, I get bored and think to myself, I'll just go to Kowalski's and get something. I absolutely don't know how to get there anymore. Get up Kendra, go do something. I get in my car, still littered with empty packs of Camel Lights adorned with the ghosts of the redbeards and the seeing eye of the Masons. I sit in the passenger seat, keys in my lap, able to go, but far, far, far too stubborn to adopt a new role. I just sit there for a few minuets, staring through my breath, thinking about what song might be playing if the car was on, and if there was any joke or funny anecdote I could relate to the song, that would make me seem interesting and witty. Eventually I get too cold, and start to concern myself with what the neighbors might be thinking about my behavior and go inside.