fake fridays
thursdays are fake fridays. mondays and tuesdays I have class, and wednesdays I run around like a lunatic, doing my laundry and going to the market and picking up dry cleaning and handwashing and going to the library and brushing luna. thursdays I can smell friday. you’re coming, I can feel you…

at my job, everyone says, “happy friday.” apparently someone my boss and everyone else worked with for three months said it every friday and it stuck, I’ve been here since October and I find myself saying it too.

so thursdays. I hate fake fridays, I want friday. do any other cultures have four day workweeks? I’m moving there. then you can have a whole day to write…or paint or rollerblade or take your kitty-cat on walks… can someone please do something about fake fridays?



In Memoriam
Zowie
While you might think the above bunny-rabbit name rhymes with “wowie,” it is actually pronounced as you would the girl’s name, “Zoe.” A black rabbit with a few tufts of white, this soft thumper (yup, she thumped) was beautiful. Zowie Yanek was eight years old, and probably died from old age. She lived in a designer hutch in the backyard of 750 Horatio Avenue, where her hutch featured an screened in porch, a warm bedroom, filled with comfortable and tasty hay, and a bathroom.

WE WILL ALL MISS ZOWIE.
10 March 2004

RECOMMENDATION…

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