there are two things i forgot to talk about in my earlier post when i got all waxy-poetic about getting my chi-chis before everyone else did.

first:

this morning i was barely awake when i got to work, i have no idea how i got to work safely. i do remember singing that dog really loud to try to keep myself awake, but i couldn't bring myself to have a smoke to help me along. i was a sleepwalker this morning, which is what i was trying to get to in my earlier post, but somehow ended talking about the bra-strap welts on my back instead.

so, i somehow arrive alive. i finish attending to the first of the day issues like i always do when i first come in...and then, i'm sleeping at my desk because no one else is around, right? and then it's like 9 and i realize i can't do this all day, that wouldn't be cricket.

i decide breakfast is in order. so i sluggishly pull myself out of my chair and down the hall past the receptionist that hates me, but i caught her looking up clothing on the internet and she blushed and i ignored her (because what right does she have to hate me? just because on my third day here i yelled at her when she started to get smart with me about giving me parking stickers so i wouldn't have to pay the $25/day fee to park in the parking lot. seriously, what the eff is her deal?) and fell into the plush 50'x50' elevator and three floors later i was sleep walking across the street. and in the cafe where i usually get lunch i ordered a french toast breakfast and a large oj and a cup of coffee. i love this cafe even though they over-charge. it's run by a sweet asian family (i want to say they are chinese, but my usually dead-on instinct about these things is not working in this case). the dad is about as tall as my dad, but instead of being a pregnant belly daddy he's all slight with the littlest most adorable arms and he has thinning hair and he smiles a lot, even if i see him out on the street he'll say "HI!" and wave. he's the main cook and he is always laughing and kidding around with his wife and the other lady who may or may not be related to the family in some fashion. when they speak their native tongue their voices are soft and laughing and kind and lovely. when they try and speak english the strangest thing happens: his voice gets even softer and their voices become loud and cutting. it's all very nice though, i have such a huge love for mom and pop operations and the quirkiness that goes along with them. i wish i knew their names, i would like to be able to come in and say "good morning _____, how are you today?" i want to pretend that i live in a small town like that even though i am in oakland.

lately there has been a wonderful new development into this scene: school's out, so their daughter has been hanging around the shop and so far i have seen her 3 or 4 times. you can't imagine a more adorable girl. she is round all over and her face is an oval with stringy black hair that is always pulled up out of her eyes, but it fights to fall there all the same. the other day i came in for lunch early and he was sitting with his daughter eating a late breakfast of home fried potatoes with lots of ketchup and hot sauce. and she was coloring in a book. she must be about 9 or 10. maybe 8, i can't ever tell anymore. and it was just the nicest scene, it was just as nice as you think it was.

and today when i was sitting and waiting for my french toast, my head pounding from lack of sleep, drinking my coffee slowly, sipping my orange juice, she was sitting across the way reading a judy blume book i have never heard of (and i was so jealous!). and everytime i looked over at her she would look up and smile at me, shifting in her seat and reading like little kids do.

i wanted to walk down with her to the lake and take her to fairyland and spend the day outside until they closed up the shop. we could have walked around and watched people and if she wanted we could have even played catch or something. she reminds me of me when i was that age, completely antsy inside, moving constantly while reading, always ready to play a game. like jump rope or tetherball.

but instead i finished up my eff toast, which was sooo good, and pounded my coffee and went back to my little cubicle, hidden from the sun.

and second, which i didn't really forget to tell you earlier, because it just happened, but all the same:

i was just in the little businessgirl's room and i was kinda spacing out. you see, i was almost finished but then someone came in and for some reason i hate to walk out of a stall if there are other people there. i would much rather walk out into an empty bathroom and be on my way. so i am sitting there, waiting for the intruder to leave and they do their business, pull up their trousers or whatever and leave the stall. and then they leave the bathroom. that's right. they did not wash their hands, they just went from the stall directly to their workstation. they did NOT pass go, they did NOT collect $200, they DID NOT CLEAN THE FUNK FROM THEIR HOO-HA OFF THEIR HANDS.

errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr--get out of the car.

now, don't get me wrong. i'm not neurotic-germ-crazy. there are times at home when i forget to wash my hands after the business is finished. middle-of-the-night. too drunk to care. just plain lazy. whatever. it happens. but never in pubilc bathrooms AND NEVER AT WORK.

i just want to know who the dirty fucker is. i'll never shake their hand again.

we have now reached the 2 hour mark, ladies and gentlmen. i can do this.