Day one and I think the toilet is going to kill me. The hairs of fungi floating peacefully in the cloudy water consumes my thoughts. Waiting now for tadpoles to appear.
Dungeons exist to this very day, all around the world. Here stands one fangirl, 5 foot 2, ready to revitalize a black hole where comics wait to die. This task set before me will not mend overnight. To do lists flow round me like streamers on michigan avenue, when the hawks brought home the stanley cup a couple fridays ago, man that was awesome!
Trash cans overflow with what I hope were snot rags...find a happy place as I delete the bookmarks of porn off mozilla. Customers approach the counter, looks straight ahead, and sees "adult books, adult books, adult books, my face". Seedy sad disgusting men, mouths fumbling for words eying the box, turning away and disappearing dissappointedly is not a welcomed daily occurance. Dear god this must change. Mace - check.
Back to the bacteria. Bottle of watered down "disinfectant spray". Honestly, what is the point?
Soap should remove filth, right? Only in the bowls of hell can soap fail.
Bathroom needs bleech...or napalm.
Endless novels removed from predecessor, enless boxes of processing waiting for god knows how long.
New release signs chip and tear. Books shuffled like a deck of cards; seasick from searching. Comic supplies scattered in four locations - was there a scavenger hunt that no one told me about?
There are many demons dwelling in this dungeon, the fridge has yet to be tamed.
Random flow of exhausted thoughts may confuse, but this tale has just begun. I am on the cusp of something grand.
Days off dwindling.
Home sink smelling.
