Bookmarks from the ‘80s…
Before I get into the main story, let me open by saying I am sick.
… “I am sick.”
There. Much better.
I have a head cold, which is not only really annoying but rather stupid to get here in the midst of summer… dammit. Woke up this morning with my nose turned to “automatic drip” and away I went. Now, I just want to lie down. Ugh.
No surprise that I’m sick, I guess, when you hear about my night.
First thing, this weekend was my weekly three days of depression. Every weekend, I just try to ride it out until the week – get through. Well, I was getting through when I made the mistake of moving this old nightstand by my bed. I’ve had this stand since I moved out of my mom’s house in ‘85/’86 – and maybe before then! The plan is to buy a new dresser – my first new dresser ever! – which would replace my old one and take up the space used by the present dresser and this nightstand.
So, I moved it…
And found within a veritable time capsule from the 1980’s! (And some things from times before, such as my copy of Newsweek with John F. Kennedy.)
There was the button from Valley High that read, “We’re No. 1.” (Get it? “We’re no one”.)
There was my Adam Ant button from high school. (I liked buttons.)
There was my American Bartending School diploma – receipt, actually – that would allow me the privilege of making drinks for my friends. (Heaven forbid I actually get a job… Well, this was long before I realized that Bartending has little to do with making drinks.)
Interestingly, I found two phone books. One, from high school, had Julie Starr’s phone number, Teresa Alaniz’s phone number, and a few more. The other was jammed with slips of paper with phone numbers on them. (It seems the idea of writing them in the book escaped me…)
Then, I found my Mickey Mouse watch. That blew me away! I thought that was long gone! Amazing the things I hide away like a freaking field mouse!
Lastly, I found three bookmarks. They were Rosa’s… they were OBVIOUSLY Rosa’s. Who else would have a bookmark emblazoned with “When the going gets tough, the tough go shopping?”
Suddenly, it was just like when I found her key. What to do?
This time, I broke down and sent her an email, thinking of her pregnant form all the while and how much I wanted to be there… how much I’ve always wanted to be the man she loved.
How many times can a heart be broken?
Needless to say, I bought a pack of smokes, drank a quart of vodka, and finally passed out after 1am.
So, is it any wonder I feel sick?