it feel like sac-town.


i'd like to think about what i would be doing, if i didn't have a job. most likely, i'd be living at my parents' house. it would probably be a hot day, and my dad would be running the air conditioner. he'd have the sprinklers going because he wouldn't want the grass to turn yellow, even though most of it already is. i wouldn't wake up until about ten or eleven, and there would be food on the table. my parents would probably be out for a walk, circling the track at the nearby high school. i wouldn't join them because i'm lazy.

i'd go out to the kitchen, and i'd eat whatever was on the table. maybe some cold chocolate chip pancakes, or else some torta with vienna sausages, or corned beef. i'd warm that shit up in the microwave. thirty seconds, probably. if it was cold, too bad. i'd just eat it anyway. maybe i'd chase it with a banana or orange, and then i'd put the skins in my compost pile. i'd put on slippers and walk across the wet grass, and then i'd throw that junk onto the pile. a bunch of flies or gnats or whatever would buzz around, startled by the new scraps.

i'd go back and sit in the white wooden rocking chair that overlooks our modest yard. i'd think about how it would be nice to work, to feel useful and appreciated. i'd get on the internet, look for jobs, apply for everything. i'd talk to my friends online, ones i hardly ever get to see. i'd find something around the house that needed fixing or attention. maybe something like organizing cabinets, or getting an extra wire for my stereo. it'd give me a reason to leave the house, go take a walk.

i'd bring my music with me. i'd listen to something that would reflect my general feelings of inadequacy, of isolation, something like sigur ros or radiohead or explosions in the sky. i'd think about what i'd want to write about. maybe the woman sitting with a stroller in the park, maybe an old man working on his car in the garage. maybe a group of kids standing around with their skateboards and boombox, not doing much of anything. i'd walk and walk down kiefer, feeling like i was getting my recommended exercise, feeling like this was a good thing for me to do, physically and mentally.

let's say i'd buy the wire at radio shack, and there wouldn't be much more to it. i have no story to tell because i've spent most of my days watching television, reading books, napping, looking at the ceiling, waiting for something to happen. i'd thank the cashier, and then i'd secretly envy him. most likely, he was able to support himself, live on his own, drive a car, go out with friends, go out on dates, live a normal life. he could tell people he worked at radio shack, and he'd be okay with it because he believed in himself, and he knew it wasn't forever.

i'd walk back in the heat, and i'd sweat, and i'd wish it wasn't the year it was. i'd wish it was earlier, much earlier, when the town was smaller, and there was a sense of community, and cokes came in glass bottles, and people with college degrees could get jobs. i'd wish everything wasn't so spread out, that my friends and family and everyone i knew lived within driving distance. i'd walk past person after person, knowing better, knowing that i should greet him or her, but i don't. this isn't my life, my world, my time. so i just keep walking, and i don't say a word.

i get home and my parents are there. they're retired, so they're home all the time, just like me. we're just a simple family of retirees. my dad is watching wowowee, and my mom is reading some book she got from the library. she'll ask if i ate. i'll say yes, and she'll ask what did i eat? i'd tell her what i ate, and then i'd go to my room. i'd try to read something, but i'll end up reading a paragraph, and i can't think straight, so i keep rereading the same paragraph, until i finally conclude that it's a lost cause. i'd turn on my stereo instead, and maybe fall asleep.

i'd wake up to the sound of the needle scratching. i'd be a little confused. what am i doing here? is it summer? am i on vacation? what time is it? why am i in my childhood bedroom? it would all make sense again. i'd get back on the internet. i'd watch some tv. i'd cut branches and bushes in the yard. i'd have dinner. i'd watch some more tv. i'd meet up with my cousins once they got off work. i'd watch tv at my cousin's house. i'd stay out late, and return home when once i got tired.

i'd fall asleep.

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