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Wednesday, November 11, 2009

where's it at?

I sit at my desk, the rain falling outside, trying to clear my head to write. It ain't happening. This morning I woke up with a two-bottle-a-wine hangover & looked at the text I sent her. I got up, drank coffee, ate milk & muesli, got my stuff together for the walk to work. I could take the bus, but I didn't have an umbrella - it got destroyed in the last typhoon - so I put on my rain gear that I used to use before my bike got stolen.

It was a hot walk to work. Many people biked with umbrellas to the station. Some walked. One high school girl strolled slowly in front of me. Her skirt on this wet day looked like a beach umbrella, above skin sand-white, her long red hair the sun. She was on the phone giggling when I passed her. Then three high school boys nearly rode their bikes into me. They were staring at the girl & one fell off his bike trying to avoid hitting me. The other two laughed but the girl didn't miss a beat, still smiling to whoever it was she was talking to.

I sip some tea. I have fifteen more minutes before I have to go upstairs & stop the centrifuge. I'm extracting DNA from mouse tails. It's boring as shit. So, I couldn't find the pellet (DNA at the bottom of the tube) & now I'm worried that I'll get no results. Sensei looked at the results from yesterday & said "no progress." Thus, I'm repeating the extraction, but he's monitoring me, looking for the step where I fucked up before. I'm tired & still sitting at my desk.

. . .

What am I looking for & where's it at? Take me away from here, fly me away.

1 comment:

  1. Darts and maps were meant for each other. Feet make good traveling companions at least for a little while.

    E

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