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By Ali Date: 2008 Sep 13 Comment on this Work [[2008.09.13.16.00.7504]] |
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There's nothing I hate more right now than your voicemail. Yesterday, I called a left you a message--and I'm trying not to think about it, not to wonder what you're doing, or what possibly could be keeping you from calling me back. Really, I am. But I'm terrible when it comes to unobstructed patience. When it's quiet, I just think too much. Of course, I've got the radio blaring...and every song conveniently reminds me of you. Oh, goody. So, I'm doing that weird thing I do, when I'm trying to not to think about you (you know, if that was humanly possible): I'm cleaning. Organizing. You should see the way my bookshelf sparkles, the way my desk gleams, and you'd be amused by the fact that you could, possibly, eat off of my nightstand. And as much as I know that I'm, inevitably and unavoidably, going to think of you, I'm really trying not to. I can only hope that you're thinking of me, as much as I'm thinking of you. But I never know, do I? You're all mysterious and erratic, which is charming--and frustrating. No, it's quite maddening, actually--like trying to hold a conversation in Alice's Wonderland, while holding your breath and hopping on one foot. But, well...it is what it is, right? And I hate your voicemail. But what I really hate? The fact that you've yet to call me back. |