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one puffy peeper
Wednesday, Nov. 20, 2002 | link

I just realized "one puffy peeper" sounds a lot more titillating than it really is. Sorry! It's just that, when I woke up yesterday, my right eye was swollen shut. And itchy, ooh so itchy.

There was also a two-inch smear of blood on the wall next to my bed, which was momentarily alarming to my befuddled, one-eyed, just-woke-up self (man, just what have I been getting up to in my sleep?), but then I was revisited by the faint memory of Marbles going batshit in the middle of the night, running all over the bed and scraping her claws down the walls. So, based on previous experience with this kind of behavior, I'm guessing that the gore was the last evidence of a mosquito too blood-logged to get away from my cat. Much like me.

I toyed with the idea of sewing myself an eye-patch for the right, swollen eye and fashioning a monocle out of my broken glasses for the left. (You know, the pair that snapped while I was on my way to the airport to fly back east for management training? And I bought a tube of superglue while I was waiting for my flight and stuck the frame together but of course managed to get glue all over the lens in the process? Only it didn't really look like glue, more like I was one of those really, really crazy people with food all over my glasses? Which is why I kept saying, "Just so you know, this isn't frosting" and pointing to my eye whenever I met someone new from work, which was good for business, I think?) But then I thought, hey! That sounds like a whole lot of work, and I already have a job. So I just wore sunglasses for the most of the day.

What, exactly, is a mosquito doing in my room in the middle of November? And why am I sweating in this thin sweater? Clearly the Apocalypse is warming up on deck.

PS: Thanks for all your well-wishes about the fire! I finally got my phone turned back on, which was kind of a nightmare feat because the phone company would only give me these obscenely broad windows of time for my fix-it appointments, like between 8am and 7pm, and since my phone is my doorbell, I had no way of knowing when they were there, which meant I had to do all sorts of maneuvering, having them call me at work before they left for my apartment, only not all phone-people have cellphones (huh?), so I missed the first appointment ... god, so boring, but anyway, I do feel better being able to call people and get my email. The man who was in intensive care appears to be recovering (scroll down for news about "Uncle Brad"). My neighbor across the way is going to have to do a lot of sorting and cleaning, and it's going to cost a bunch (who's getting renter's insurance? Evany's getting renter's insurance!), but she has a place to stay in the building, so at least she doesn't have to find somewhere else to go while they fix up her apartment, which hopefully isn't going to take too, too long. And that's about it for the epilogue. But yeah, thanks everybody! I'm alive! Hi!



(PS: My diary has officially moved over to my official evany.com website. Let's meet up over there!)



(PS: My diary has officially moved over to my official evany.com website. Let's meet up over there!)


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