jaywalking for DD iced coffee at 7 AM Friday AMs
bus not coming, I walk a mile in gym shorts, eating can of Pringles
"you are the total package"
goobin' around on a double date over white clam shell sundaes
unexpected heartbeats in an audition I thought I was over-prepared for
wearing rain boots, eating a Potbelly sandwich, scrap of paper
the sunniest seat on the patio of the Art Institute member's lounge
students coming back late to the grammar quiz with greasy sacks
cold walks past sweet sixteen dresses in windows, dreading freshmen
sighing from the bar seats of SC
walkin' with my momma for some post-play hot cocoa
conquering the St. Patties jig in aerobic step and then steam rooming
improvising a song about burning a movie theatre down
stuffing a giant bag of Sour Patch Kids into my bra at the Gene Siskel
finally the poolside gossip with Hill, in cars with familiar faces
Bisque's. Enchiladas. With. Coke.
the pillar right behind the 77 stop
curly-haired teacher wriggling in red laughter on the one swivel chair
The Bachelor, lights dim, foil wrapper, empty apartment
making it through, but suddenly it hits, and I must cry, Bisque's there
toe tappin on the platform to "You and Me (But Mostly Me)"
dancing fool by the beer pong tables, by the DJ, under the fog machine
Tones Cones trip on a quiet grey Saturday with my dad
new tiny white office with fattest computer screen ever
Orange line ImprovNerd podcast listening
the endless wormhole of blue names
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