Morning After

Tulips, originally uploaded by camille94019.

I woke up from a nap this afternoon. I had been asleep for three hours. I barely remembered the drive from Big Shaft to home. My room looks like wreckage from Chernobyl. Bills are spilling off my drafting table. Garbage overflows from the can. Semi-unpacked bags litter the floor. A layer of dirt prevents my bare soles from actually touching it. Notes from unanswered calls clutter the phone area. My cell phone tells me I have 93 minutes in "overage." My body aches from exhaustion.

I took the girls shopping yesterday in the Mission. We had a blast wading through the clothes and boutiques, over the pissed-stained sidewalks and the graffitti'ed walls. Then he called and I ditched them to head over to Berkeley. I feel guilty. I didn't really ditch them. I wanted to. I returned them to their cars. Then I plunged into rush hour bridge traffic.

Love Bites

The door to the outside is open. A couple from the crack/halfway house across the street is having a loud altercation.

she: You don't get it! We have been friends since high school!

he: I saw the way he looked at you!

she: I am not cheating on you!

he: yeah right!

she: ...I don't even want to come out (she is crying)... You called my daughter!

(sound of a door slamming) (he is trying to reply, but his voice is muffled)

she: I don't know what to do! I don't know what to do!

Her voice is shrill and defensive. He is loud and demanding.

he: You're saying I don't love you no more. I am not trying to avoid you!

she: I didn't do it! Stop yelling at me!

he: I am not yelling!

she: Why are you treating me like this?

I wonder if I should call the police?