Day by Day

My friend meets me at work, which looks like a fancy kind of mall with glass doors and elevators. We have our biggest sales day ever and coworkers are swarming around celebrating. My friend hands me a book he's made called Day By Day a book of daily illustrations (similar to David Shrigley) that he drew on his iPhone years ago for his son. The drawings have sentences underneath them, the art of a task, dancing through the dishes, how to conquer the blues when encountering the UPS man. The book's publishing dates are 1697 and 7021. 

Second Christmas

A second Christmas is happening. I think to myself, there are people who would die for this, Christmas in July. It feels like a chore pulling down decorations and lights, finding a tree. Beckett is elated, she wants gifts, but I think she has too many. I run with unstuffed stockings and think about what I can put inside. Thread, art supplies, a book. Things she already has, but doesn't play with. I run and trip. Something bites me on the knee. 

The Sloth of Normal

My former boss introduces me to his friend, an older British woman who used to be a model. I'm intrigued by her and create a video about her life to show her one day. She has a pet sloth in the video. She wears blue denim on most days. She eats Cheerios for breakfast. I watch her mingle with other people I don't know. She laughs at what they are saying. I rent my room to a couple. My copy of Clarice Lispector is inside and I'm worried they'll steal it. 

On my face

I move back to New York to move in with my boyfriend, Nick Flynn, and his girlfriend who may also be my girlfriend. I'm unpacking boxes, pots and pans, things my grandmother owned long ago. I mention just leaving a year ago, now I'm back, what a waste of time. Nick Flynn and my girlfriend wander around the house with other writers. She's agitated. She shows me her books. The books Nick gave her. He's reprimanded her for something. Inside the books are his love notes to her. They look similar to his love notes to me. I become angry, but let go of the anger pretty quickly. He told me I was the only one he had written to in this way. I shut the book and tell his/my girlfriend that I'm going to have a vagina tattooed onto my face.