"Fear of dropping soda on the ground, and it fizz on you. Fear of some birds. Fear of doors when they slams. Fear of things that go bump in the night. Fear of putting something in your ear, and it is not supposed to be there, and it is liable to run you deaf."
I am housesitting some dogs this weekend. There are some joys about having a house to yourself, but also there gets to be a loneliness after a few days. I like the silence less than I like the noise of every day. A kid yelling upstairs, muffled TV sounds, phones ringing, the neighbor boy playing basketball all hours of the day (and never getting better. how is that possible?). It is harder to sleep in the dead silence.
My Spanish professor asked us if we were stressed on Monday, and then on Wednesday told us that the world was ending in seven days, on the day of the oral exam, and made us write a list of things we would like to do before we die. I was one of only a few that wouldn't rob a bank ('cause that would just be weird, now), but I did tell him about the weird thing I've always wanted to do which is basically that scene in Jumanji where they smash everything in the store. I wish I knew how to say more things in Spanish. Sorry, T.C.
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1 comment:
Thank you for the tiny excerpt from my favorite This American Life ever.
And thank you for a tiny peek of what it would still be like to being hanging out with T.C.
Please tell him that I am still in love with him. No wait. Don't.
That's funny that you wanted to smash everything in the store like Jumanji, because when I was little, all I could think was, Oh my gosh, they are making such a huge mess, and someone has to clean it up.
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