Dear Diary:
Wow, can you believe it's Tuesday already? I feel like the week just started yesterday but here we are at Tuesday already. I know technically the week starts on Sunday but you know what I mean when I say I feel like it just started yesterday. Even though you're not real I still feel like you're the only one who really understands me. Thanks for always listening and sorry again that my penmanship is so poor. It seems like my hands are always shaking for some reason. I know it's not delirium tremens so maybe I'm developing some sort of nervous condition. Or I guess it could be covid too. I will just ignore it for now and hope it goes away.
So I'm writing today's journal entry from the public library. The one in Edgewater. It's the first time I've ever been to this particular library so of course I feel awkward. When I walked in I quickly went and sat down in the first chair I saw that had an outlet close to it because I needed to plug in my phone. It was only after I'd gotten all settled in and connected to the WiFi that I realized I'm sitting in the Young Adult section and everyone around me is like 30 years younger than me. That by itself was already enough to make me feel pretty weird and self-conscious but then I saw that the chair I'd selected had little bits of glitter all over it. Yeah I'm literally sitting in a pile of glitter right now. None of the other chairs in this area have glitter on them, just the one I picked to sit in of course. Now there's glitter on my hands and my jeans and my jacket and I'm pretty sure some of it is on my face too by this point because I'd say I picked my nose probably about a half dozen times between when I sat down and when I noticed the security camera way up over there in the corner aimed right at me.
I don't think anybody is ever going to love me. I tried Tinder but it just makes me feel old. I tried going to bars to meet people but I always just end up sitting there alone drinking alone and then walking home drunk and alone. I guess that's better than driving home drunk and alone. The last time I got pulled over I had an open pint of Caliber Canadian whisky shoved way down in between the console and driver seat right by where I like to keep the extra clips for the MAC-11. Thankfully the cop didn't notice though. When he asked me if maybe I wasn't going a little bit faster than I should have been going on a narrow winding mountain road with no guardrails I decided to just be honest and so I said, Sorry officer, I'm running late to the morgue. I couldn't tell if the expression on his face meant he had stomach gas or was just trying not to bust out laughing, but either way when I showed him my business card he composed himself and said Oh, right and let me off with a warning. Overall he was a pretty chill dude. I always try to be nice to cops because I've heard so many of their stories and put so many of them in the ground that I can kind of identify with them. And of course business is business you know.
It's so quiet in here. I really like libraries. Although they'd be even better if there weren't any people in them. I don't really like people. But as far as libraries go this is a pretty good one. I will probably come back to this one and just try to remember to pay more attention to where I'm sitting next time. If I ever meet the person who invented glitter I swear to God I'll kill them myself. With glitter. Maybe a sparkly suffocation or something. Inventor of glitter killed by glitter bomb prank gone wrong. And of course I would be the one to do the honors afterward. Well I guess this entry is getting kind of long and besides I should probably start packing up to head back to work before the boss starts blowing up my phone again. After all those bodies aren't going to bury themselves are they now.
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4-5-22. Glitter bombs away.
