the coldest winter ever

alarm goes off at 7:30. snooze until 8. should've been out the door by 8. shower and dress, out by 8:45. i'll be lucky to get in before 9:30. fuck. fuck. fuck. why do I do this? here's a crazy idea-- why not just get out of bed when the alarm goes off? actually, it doesn't really matter because when I get in at 9:29, I'll prob be doing a celebratory fist pump once I discover that the other team members have yet to arrive. even my boss, who lives a far, far 3 blocks away. so i'll just slip out of my coat quickly, hang it up with my purse, sign onto my computer and when they arrive 2 minutes later, as far as they know, I was there at 9.

there are a couple of things i've been meaning to take care of, but i haven't because i've been reading the Cut. compulsively checking RBG's because I know andre be blogging from schumz. bossip. searching for brightly colored wedge sandals. talking to Jen. and it doesn't really matter, i'll get it done, eventually.

now it's 6 o'clock. another workday gone. things were kinda slow so I didn't really do anything. but i don't wanna look like I haven't done anything, so I guess I'll sit here for awhile longer and click into my email when I hear someone walking by.

7 o'clock. why haven't they left yet? I'm ready to goooo.

8 o'clock. this is getting ridiculous. i'm leaving. put my coat on. say goodnight to the stragglers, onto the train.

now i'm exhausted from a long day of nothing. I wish the A train ran from the office door to my apartment because I don't wanna deal with transferring trains right now. I don't really wanna deal with walking. walking up the steps at west 4th. walking in the frigid air through the dark park. walking across Lewis where the cars speed along almost with the hope of hitting a jaywalking pedestrian. walking into my apartment into my room that's almost colder than outside. what's happening to me? I used to love walking.

Penn sweatpants. Duke sweatshirt. off to bed.

December-March. repeat.

April 30. when I got there at 9:29, they were all there. and every time I clicked into the Cut. or RBG's. or bossip. they were there. so I did an assignment here and there to break up my stints of nothingness.

and then 6 o'clock came and they were gone. so, soon after I left, as well.

eyes glazed over. poring over Invisible Man. mindlessly running up the steps at West 4th. mindlessly transfering to the A. mindlessly zoning in and out of the book. mindlessly getting off at Utica. walking up the steps. through the turnstile.

up...
the...
steps...

daylight? leaves. cherry blossoms. tulips. the park looks beautiful.

I needed you, Spring.

my alarm is set for 7am.

Hello

Hey, how are you?

I'm fabulous, how're you?

I called because Beyoncé "Halo" came on the radio and I thought of you.

Haha

I can't believe I turned the song off. I didn't get it then but I get it now.

Well that's good. I'm glad.

Yeah, I wanna do better.

let's stay together

i got to work this morning. my favorite pen was gone. it was purple.

i had these shoes. fuschia, t-strap, peep toe, from Mr. Madden, bought on super sale. i wore them into the ground by the second go 'round. they were my favorite.

i don't think there's a better denim brand than levi's. the too-super-low-skinnies hug in all the right places. i wore them every chance i could get. i mean, they were my favorite. and the holes in both thighs are a testament to that.

and my gold aviators. love at first sight. it was like a scene in a dream, a golden apparition. except when i reached out for them, they were real. and i made them mine. my $300 shades were no match. these were priceless. and in the morning, they were gone. swiped from the dresser, never to be seen again.

but why is it that my favorites don't last? from the second you're mine i shower you with nothing but love and praise. i tell everyone about how much i love you. how there's nothing else like you. and yet i have to fight to keep you. to take you everywhere with me means that in only a matter of time, you'll be gone. so if i really love you, if you're really my favorite, you might be best kept on a shelf. so i can just look at you, admire you. and not wear you out. leaving you torn, ragged, and eventually, rendered useless. or, even worse, lost. stolen. gone.

i bought a pair of sweatpants within my first week of being there. grey. navy blue name and emblem on the left thigh. i don't even know what size. we'll call it the perfect size. and as i had done so many times in the hallways at Hewitt, I carefully and meticulously removed the hem from the bottom of the pants, and i loosened the stitching about six inches on the inner side of each pants leg. perfect. there was a matching hoodie too. not to wear together, but to love, just as much. but that never made it past sophomore year. these sweats, though, have been in it for the long haul. 8:30 classes. all nighters. bedtime. anytime. i noticed you're getting a little worn out now. i can almost see through the fabric and some burgundy thread is reminding me that we've been down this road before. but i'm gonna need you to hang on for me, please. you're my favorite.