that's what she said.

these days, i usually wake up at a reasonable hour, say, 9:35-ish. but then i remember i have nothing to do, nowhere to be, so i just go back to sleep. and then it's usually nothing earlier than 11 a.m. i'm all hazy, and sometimes i convince myself i'm in the initial phase of glaucoma, if there is an initial phase. i've been eating peace cereal every morning, a habit i've kept up since i received food stamps last year. from there, it's usually mind-numbing internet browsing. i'm sure there's a place where i could get paid to browse the internet in a mindless stupor. somebody hook me up with a state job already.

yesterday, the library clerk seemed a little annoyed that i directly brought her two dvds that i needed to return, so that i could check out five total. "you know, you could just drop these off in the drop box." "i know," i told her, "but last time they didn't let me check out five because i dropped two off in the box." this was a complete lie, and i don't know why it came out of me. the only explanation is that i'm forgetting how to talk. "well, normally if you just tell us you dropped them off, you'll be fine." that's exactly what i did last time, and exactly how it happened. so why did i lie? then, she got doubly annoyed when she found out how many dvds i had on hold. she brought nearly a dozen to the counter. "i would suggest that you don't request any more dvds until you pick these up." i wanted to say, "no. it's a free country and i'll request all the dvds i want, and maybe i've got requests sitting at other branches, and who the hell are you, you're just a library clerk who's part-time and on call, and who makes less than $13 an hour, i would know because i've applied, but they haven't called me back yet, so fuck them and fuck you," but instead, i said, "alright."

my favorite library clerk wouldn't have given me so much shit. that's why she's my favorite library clerk. she would only tell me things like, "oh, you're checking out stephen colbert's book. i read it. it's hilarious." or, "you have a great and unique taste in films." and then she would recommend some old movies, and say, "thank you" when she handed me my borrowed goods.

when i wasn't working, i would wear my pajama pants all day and sometimes i wouldn't leave the house. my mom would call me ignatius j. reilly. i wish. to have his level of disregard for all of society borders on genius.

but the difference now is that i put on real pants, or sometimes jeans, and i go to a big, well-lit office to correct sentences written by 3rd-5th grade ELD students. for one prompt featuring a girl riding a scooter, one of the kids wrote, "the gole."

i finally talked to one of my co-workers other than gina. it was this guy named kevin sakamoto, who had to have been 25 or over. "i don't know about this," he told me, right before break was over. "i'm like, 'what did i get myself into?'" "do you have a day job, too?" i asked him. "no, this is it. i'm kind of in an in-between period. i'm waiting for my bar results. and the holidays are coming up, so i figured, it would be nice to have some extra cash." i asked where he went to law school. "mcgeorge," he said. thinking it was some prestigious school on the east coast, i asked him where it was. "oak park," he said. "it's in the ghetto."

gina, rich, and i watched the office in hd. afterwards, i was hoping either journey's video was back, or that comcast had added trace adkin's stupid video to on demand. no luck for either. instead, we played music. i tried to teach gina a bass line, but she gave up just as easily as she would playing guitar hero III on easy. then i showed her how to get food stamps.

my day isn't done until i've shown a lazy person - and this includes myself - how to get by.

1 comment:

The Man said...

http://spb.ca.gov