5 03 pm pst [ sleepy ]
Our flight last night was delayed, and the cab driver
drove like a turtle. We were really tired when we went to bed last night.
A noise woke me at three in the morning and I saw Matthew standing at the end of the bed fully
dressed.
"[My roommate] fell off his bike. I have to take him
to the emergency room." Motorcycles have always scared me. Matthew
didn't return until six-thirty. He's asleep now, having been awake long
enough this morning to eat some cereal and watch the first half of True Stories (1986) with
me.
The roommate is ok -- nothing broken and no concussion.
He tried to put his hospital band on me today. He's all bandaged up.
As a belated x-mas present, "genie" filled out my tip
jar form with a cruel message.
Thanks for making me feel like I want to vomit. I'm done writing.
