mybestkungfu's Diaryland Diary

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i robot valentine

Michael is a man of few words.
i have to overanalyze everything. every word,
every gesture, every announcement to go out and buy milk.
i understand what he's saying but
what is he really trying to tell me?
do we need more dairy in our diet?
am i a bad grocery shopper?

so this morning before he leaves for work
he throws down his credit card.
'for tickets to Canberra,' he says
before he walks out the door.
i sit there. spoon halfway to my mouth,
non-fat soy milk dripping off my
wheaties.
my mind races, processing, deciphering, calibrating
his coded speech.
does he really MEAN buy tickets to Canberra,
the capital city of Australia nestled in the middle of sheep country,
housing many of the nation's most important public buildings and institutions -
or a pair of Nine Wests and that cute black plaid skirt from Billabong?
he's so cryptic.

3:34 p.m. - Feb. 14, 2005

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