I have been working on a painting. I think I'll finish this one today. After that, I'm going to spend all my free time on this new novel about television. I think it might be funny. Who knows? It might suck.
I have to submit my PhD stuff this week. I'll have to put my life onto three fabulous pages. I think that will be fun.
I went to visit Bobbie today. She told me to come back next week. She was afraid she might get Swine Flu from me.
"I won't even hug you," she said. "But I love you."
"Okay," I laughed. "I love you too. See you next week."
I stopped by the grocery store after that. I had to get lasagna shells for dinner. Sogee told me to get them and deschamel sauce. I couldn't find any of that. I looked it up on the web server on the phone. All I found was articles on Zooey Deschanel. That wasn't what I wanted. It wasn't until I got home and got chewed out for not getting it that I figured out it was just a fancy way to say "white sauce."
"Why didn't you say white sauce?" I asked Sogee.
"You didn't get it?"
"No," I said and slumped into a chair by the kitchen.
"How am I going to cook the lasagna?"
"I don't know," I said.
If this were a story about my ethnicity, I could make suggestive statements about my search for "white sauce," but I think in my current state of mind it would go straight to being slutty. Marilyn Monroe would arrive on the top of my computer screen. She would be pouring deschamel sauce down her blouse. I'd tell her I was into people who looked or acted more like deviants.
"I am naughty," she would say.
"Okay," I would reply. "Then go to the store and get some white sauce for this lasagna. Because, believe me, if you don't, Sogee is going to get pissed."
"I am going to go get the white sauce."
"Okay," Sogee smiled. "I am glad. My existence depends on white sauce."
"It's the same for all of humanity."