Hey John,
I won’t be getting an update to you until tomorrow. Spent last night coughing until 1:30, sleeping until 2:00 and then coughing until I came to work today. Ergo, I am going to go home so I can cough some more in private.
Will try to get something written tomorrow.
JM
So with that in mind…
I wanted to write about… um… yeah.
Usually, I write down little things here and there during the day, especially if I’m at work. My mind is like a chalkboard; every twenty minutes and you have to wipe it down, cleaning it clear of whatever was on there before, so if I happened to see something while I was driving to work that inspired me to think about it as a writing topic, if I don’t jot the note down, it’ll never come to light.
Which is how I got to write about tonight’s topic: The William Shatner Roast.
I signed my first lease when I was 17 with a man far too young in the head for me. Fresh out of high school and chock full of foolish ambition. A know-it-all complex.
I got a job at Applebee’s in Times Square and then the gym and now Jennifer where I hate my job. I realize now that these shitty jobs are all that is out there if you are uneducated unless you are extremely lucky. Having institutions stand behind your intelligence is more impressive then the army of references from equal educational stratum as yourself.
Tonight while riding the train back to Brooklyn to pick up the love of my life, Mr. Crocker, I was innocently doing my crossword when the obnoxious chitter chatter of completely brainless girls interrupts me. I desperately tried to concentrate, but couldn’t. They moved so that they right in my view.
