essays

Cathartic Ink

putting my own spin on things

Drip Da-Drip-Drip…Drip.

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So, I went to bed at 3.13am. I’d been exhausted for a while before that but once I get busy doing something, I tend to forget.  I had a great time talking to one of my friends from Fargo last night, he sent me some new photos of his daughter.  He’s the only one of my friends to have children right now, although several are married. Jocie will be 2 in September and she just gets cuter and cuter and cuter every minute.  She doesn’t have anyone to knit her things, so as soon as I have a little more money around I’m starting on some winter hats for her.  The midwest gets cold! Anyway, I woke up at 11.11am. I decided that maybe I’d try to go back to sleep and I couldn’t think of anything that would have woken me up.  Next thing I know, my doorbell rings, and its the handyman who came to fix my dripping tub, and the screen in my bedroom.  That’s one of the things I love most about my apartment and why I don’t mind the cost of it.  When things are broken, they fix them, no questions.  I’m sure if it was a big person-sized tear in the screen door they’d question, but its not a matter of “did you break the screen?” Its obvious that its been maintained in this fashion since it was built in the early 70’s because there’s no way it would look as nice as it does now without that happening.  I love my apartment.

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