My Week in Review

I got stuck at 16th and Washington. I remember you telling me you missed me. I passed the doughnut shop established when this was a working class neighborhood. I remember the first time you touched my knee, drunk.

I remember one time I was describing this African woman in an old Byzantine painting for Art History class. I said, “African American woman” instead of just African.

I took my dog for a walk in the park. She killed a groundhog. It squeaked a bit before she buried it.

I can’t get any closer to you without being on heights.

I thought I couldn’t win at Scrabble because I wasn’t as smart, until I saw people using normal words. She always had to be smarter than me, until I beat her at chess, and backgammon, and poker, and ping-pong. Now I live in fear of talking down to you.

I guess you have to try to find love so you have something to go for.

Typos are the misspeaking stutters you glaze over in normal conversation.

I don’t even know why I try to be original anymore. There’s nothing wrong with derivative works.

She didn’t know how miserable I was. I can’t blame her for not trying to fix that. I can blame her for not being there though. And I do. And I will. She asked me about it once in college, and I told her she wasn’t there. She started arguing with me. Then crying. Mostly crying.

I had to find a hat to go to the baseball game. I couldn’t go without the hat.

Tell me how to tell someone they’re bad with money. To have to be so careful. To watch it pitter away.

I talked over my Dad today and I didn’t care. He has nothing on me now. Only the requirements.

I drank a diet coke. I hate diet coke. But no one listened. Then I felt awkward about my weight.

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11 thoughts on “My Week in Review

  1. camillae

    I’m finding some interesting things in common with you as I read your words – eg. the typos comment, the scrabble business… I am glad you seem to see the mundane as not necessarily mundane. I think diurnal occurrences (bruises, saying “thankyou” instead of “hey, how are you?”, random flashes of the past whilst waiting for someone to arrive) are best lived in observation and contemplation. Writing fulfils this, and you share it well. Also I love O’Hara.

    Reply
  2. poemsbynadia

    Your voice speaks out greatly in your writing. It’s the blatant sarcasm that I find the funnest to read. I absolutely loved the line, “Typos are the misspeaking stutters you glaze over in normal conversation”. Great post!

    Reply
  3. personatus50

    Well done! Loved it. You impressed me twice: me as a normal reader, and me as an aspiring writer.

    Reply

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