cold day.

The weather is cold, you're inside
And your eaves dropping
As your housemate, the drug dealer
Talks about the acoustics of different venues with a customer
He can talk forever and really fast too
He calls it business
Your jealous because he doesn’t have to change out of his pajammas to do his
Business.

God it’s cold and raining
I don’t know what you expected when you moved here

But you wake up and your hands are cold and your toes are cold
Your glasses are foggy when you reach for them from your slightly deflated air mattress in the ams
And You can’t get out of bed because it’s so fucking cold
And your dog wants a walk but the rain deters you. You feel guilty as she runs around with the rope moose in her mouth and god damnet how can you stop her from barking at every single person that comes in the house? You’ve tried everything. You feel like a bad dog owner even though everyone says they understand and they know she is a good dog.  It’s the breed you think. But it’s still your fault. And you’re feeling pessimistic.

There is a tv sittig outside your house because your girlfriend had to rush someone to the hospital the other night and had to take it out of the car as you had neglected to take to the value village or a dump or something. It’s just sitting there. Not only do you feel like a bad dog owner but now your also lazy white trash.  God. It’s just sitting there.  It’s too heavy for you to pick up by yourself anyway and your house mate the drug dealer certainly wont help you with it. Besides. You don’t even know where to take it.
It’s wet now. No one is going to take it thinking it might work. You secretly wished they would but knew that if it was taken by that naïve person that you’d feel responsible. Guilty even. One of your housemates says to just dump it somewhere at night when no one will see you. But you’d feel guilty about that too. It’s not right you say. You even raise your voice a little to show your house mate and your girlfriend that this is not a possibility.

God it’s cold. And every time you turn the heater on in your room it’s pointless because you’ve discovered these little holes in your hardwood. Just one or two but that must be why your room doesn’t stay warm. Everyone aggrees your room is the coldest in the house. Alison says it’s the windows. The double panes and the fact that one of them is open. Your remembering now. One of them is open. Why haven’t you closed it? Who knows. Now you remember why you opened it to begin with. You opened it because this goddamn house doesn’t have a door to the backyard from the main house. Meaning? You have to go all the way around from the front. Isn’t that the stupidest thing you’ve ever heard? Who would design  a house without a door to the backyard. So every time abby wants out you have to go to the front and then to the side. And you thought the window was big enough for her to fit through but it’s too scary. You see the fear in her eyes when you try to coax her for the first couple times and so you don’t do that anymore. But you didn’t shut that goddamn window.

Oh I have to got work soon. I like stocking the milk and being busy. It make me feel productive. As long as I do it my way where progress is actually made. Not the way my fear mongering ast. Manager instructs me too. Coward. Fucking safeway with its’ micromanaging bastards and disrespect for it’s fellow workers. If Utah phillips were still around and we met for coffee sometime-I could talk his ear off. But I wouldn’t. I’d probably just listen to him because he is or was so amazing.