I am Jane Goodall's Tanzanian monkeys typing about bananas. My fingers are Santa's little helpers. My hope is a sporadic rainfall - yet a torrential downpour in all creative environments. I am Theseus, unspooling golden yarn. Sisyphus, sweating uphill. Bukowski, scribbling away in rooming houses. A river always flowing. I am the nightmare of stagnancy and a God of Imagination.
Wednesday, May 07, 2003
Carrie...
I have hit an ultimate low. I managed to lock myself in my car today. Twice. Serious. This type of shit only happens to me. What the hell? It's not my fault. Really. I came home around lunchtime, turned off my car, and couldn't get out. They're automatic. I tried to make it work tons of times and finally had to get out from the passenger side. Then I opened the driver’s side with my key, got back in, and tried it again. Locked myself in again and had to climb back out. I did it again when I went to the grocery store. Now, I can only get out by using the window button and opening it with my hand from the outside door handle. My car's not a jalopy either. It's a decent Camry. I think it's possessed. I think that it's only going to get worse. I think that I need to buy a horse and just take that to work.
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