Because It's Better To Be Irrational With Me Than Rational With Someone Else
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And the punishment for the horrid essays continues...
On Saturday my brother�s best friend and my good friend died. We don�t know if it was suicide or just accidental overdose. My brother is not taking it well.
The other day, DoD requested four additional essays of some sort. I wrote the best things I could think of. Pulitzer Prize worthy. I think this was my chance for redemption.
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I sent my now-ex his keys (sans the keychain they came with). My friend proposed I just give them to the local bum with the address of my ex�s mansion�. I instead, bought the gayest most flower covered bubble envelope I could have found. A huge one too. And slipped the keys in there. I printed out his address via computer, since writing it by hand (which is what I usually do) wouldn�t give the feeling of detachment as printed words would.
I showed Stan the hideous envelope. He made gagging sounds. �If someone sent me this, I�d thrown it away immediately.� Perfect, I thought.
At the post office the clerk asked if I this envelope is actually empty. �No� but I like the fact that it seems to be.� Void of emotion. Filled with element of surprise. Hmm. The enevelope cost me more than I suppose he paid for the keychain.
1:06 p.m. - April 18, 2011
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