Boo. B

The ambient lights on my fake ficus are going to burn out, soon. I’m a little bummed. I’m also a little interested in the process. Seemingly randomly assorted bulbs are taking turns being unnaturally bright or completely dead. Mostly, I’m hoping they don’t short out when I’m not home and cause a fire. This fear is unfortunate because I like to use said bulbs as a “nightlight” when I go somewhere and anticipate being home after dark. The sweet, twinkly lights on Patty’s old, fake ficus welcome me home to my crumbling apartment and tell me that it’s OK to buy the non non-fat Velveeta mac & cheese, combine it with black beans and pre-pubescent peas and call it dinner.

←100 words a day

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