April 11, 2009


I did it only last Tuesday, but it was starting to smell in the kitchen by Thursday. I did my best to ignore it.

You’re a goddamned fool.

I slept soundly Sunday night, but I woke up Monday and realized the smell had spread to the living room. I went to the office. I finished all the work in my inbox—it was a very productive day. I bought three cans of Febreeze™ at a gas station on the way home. Good way to start my week.

Can’t you do anything right?

I went bowling on Tuesday night with the league. I had an off day. We lost the game. I punched the side of the car—the ostentatious BMW you insisted on buying—and left a dent in the side.

Someone’s coming unhinged.

I forgot housekeeping came to clean on Wednesdays. I was so startled I knocked over the vase in the living room by the white suede couch. The one I got you for your birthday. It shattered; the shards spread as far as the kitchen door. While the lady was cleaning up the glass, I managed to use the entire can of Febreeze™ in under two minutes.

I woke up Thursday to sirens.
Nobody missed you but the cleaning lady.