So Not Cute

day 5 (this was written by candlelight, think blair-witch style):

the whole house smells like bananas. i dream of bananas. bananas are now my coworkers at work. bananas are what i put on my feet. bananas are what i pray to before i go to bed. eating them should feel self-congratulatory but instead it feels like giving in to the oppressor.

they’re browning so quickly…it’s like an outbreak of the plague. they might be all blackened char-casses (new word) by tonight. i shudder to think.

i’ve been doing extensive experiments to attempt to slow down the aging process for these guys. so far, i’ve come up with one failproof conclusion. putting hats and drawing faces on bananas does nothing to slow down their ripening, but it makes for a great photo shoot. pictures forthcoming…

also. bonus research portion. you know the expression “cute as a kewpie doll”? i realized i don’t know what a kewpie doll looks like. so i took some liberties with the internet. civil liberties, i mean. here were the ever-so-disturbing results:



crime against humanity

lastly, i can’t stop being late to stuff. i had to drop off a key yesterday at 2:45pm. i wake up at 3:30pm (yeah, it’s this thing i do, oversleeping) and then i’m in the middle of one of those scenes where you’re running out the door with one shoe on and your hair in your face and your conscience screaming in your ear. and no one is going to care what your excuse is because you smell like failure. i’ve got to reconfigure my body so i stop sleeping through important deadlines and responsibilities. i don’t think the world cares that i’m a heavy sleeper with narcoleptic tendencies. and if i can work geriatric bananas into the solution, i’m golden.

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