2013-12-20 - 10:23 p.m.
this bathrobe was almost certainly stolen from an upscale hotel. he had whisked my rain-soaked clothes off to the dryer, and now he was rubbing my hair with a towel, oblivious to the notion of personal space. i realized that he was crying and also very drunk.
* * *
reading: lonesome you, by park wan-suh.
listening to: the stranger, by lord huron.
working on: wrapping up the end of the semester before i leave to see my family.
in the garden: if i don't clear out the dead vegetation soon, i'm just begging for disease to come in the spring.