First things first: Being awakened by your stupid older brother on an important day is not a good way to start the aforementioned day off. Seems his equally stupid little girlfriend shot herself one too long a line and is currently straddling life and death in the hospital. The cops are questioning her friends. He’s freaking out. He wanted me to do him a favor. “Hold a duffel bag for me. Just for a little while.” I hung up on him and went back to bed.
I’d be lying if I said I loved him if only because he’s my brother. I don’t. I can say that with a certainty. Gilly’s an idiot who doesn’t listen to reason. If the cops arrest him for the dope, I won’t be posting bail.
But I digress. After that phone 3a.m. interruption, I went back to sleep. And then…
- I woke up. Called in sick. (I’d asked for the day off, but they forgot to schedule it.)
- Blared Pink Floyd and Joy Division. Woke Cecile. (Made her an apology breakfast.)
- Went to Starbucks. Drank a hot venti mint-flavored mocha with whip. (His favorite.)
- Went to Subway. Had his favorite sandwich. (Barry gave it to me for free.)
- Went to the market. Bought a bouquet of calla lilies. (They threw in a vase for free.)
- Stopped at a botanica. Picked up a blue candle. (I forgot to bring one from home.)
- Went to the cemetery. Had the biggest shock of my life. (And realized Viticus was telling the truth about a lot of crazy-sounding things.)
I basically owe Viticus the cheesiest dish I can find. Seriously. What can’t that man do? The hours I spent with my dear Mr. E were bittersweet, but heavy on the sweet.
I spent the rest of the day watching The Wall and Sweeney Todd and I finally picked up Control but haven’t watched that yet. Something about the way he died bothers me.
I also need to be nicer to Cecile. I’ll work on that. Maybe I’ll let her invite her British import over for dinner this weekend. How bad could it be?