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Tuesday, November 13th, 2001

Time Event
11:39p
This morning, I woke up feeling a little different. Kind of sick to my stomach. So I jumped out of bed in my pajamas and ran at top speed down to the corner store for an umbrella. Exhausted, half-naked, and out of breath, I asked for an umbrella. The man working there pointed to them. Six dollars. (Well, five ninety five, but I've trained myself to see "six dollars" when it's five ninety five).

Naturally, I didn't have any money, so I offered to clean the guy's dishes, give him a back massage, and do his accounting for him.

He stared at me evenly. We squared shoulders against each other, showdown style. He quirked an eyebrow. My hands twitched. We kept looking into each others eyes. My shoulders tensed. His teeth bared. I kept watching him.

He flinched and turned his head away. I had won the battle of wills. I got the umbrella.

The only problem is I stillf elt sick to my stomach, didn't need an umbrella, and this guy's back, dishes, and receipts were all a bloody filthy tangled wreck.

Why do I do this to myself?

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