1. Yesterday, on my lunch break, I turned on my phone and right away, it started ringing. A number I did not recognize. I answered it. Some Latino male from [incomprehensible orginization name] telling me that they had kept my application on file for the peer mentor/internship position and were wondering if I was still interested. Imagine if someone called you and said these same things to you, because I don't remember applying for whatever internship this was, was not even sure what orginization this was - and was beyond confused. I am sorry, I said, What orginization is this? Escasomething Dominicasomething. Oh, okay, I said, not wanting to sound like I had no clue what I applied for, and told him, that no, at this point in time, I was too busy with other things to intern there. I still am not sure what that was, but if I cannot remember, obviously, I did not want to volunteer there too bad. I think that must have been from my I need to volunteer somewhere phase, where I was about to volunteer at Housing Works, but then did so at Lamda Legal, which lasted for two weeks?
2. This morning, after taking a leisurely shower and dancing around in my bathroom, singing along really loudly to some Michael Jackson mix CD Dara has, I heard a pounding on the door. Clad in a towel, since my clothes were in my room down the hall, I answered the door very embarrased and it was the burly dad of the household below along with a burly surveyor to do an estimate on how much their house is worth. Great. Michael Jackson is still squealing in the background. I throw on some clothes and let the guy come in poke and around our apartment and take notes.
3. Summer is coming and I might have a nervous breakdown. Honestly. And only because of those fucking ice cream trucks. I was reading on my couch a short while ago reading, and could not concentrate, could only hear that never ending irritatingly chipper ice cream truck music. The stupid trucks park all over my neighborhood for hours at a time and play that looped chipper sample over and over again. It is all I can think about - how much I hate that noise. I remember reading some item in the NY Post about an old man who sued them last summer because of mental suffering or something. It puts so many people on edge. The worst type of public nuissance. What if all stores were allowed to blare the same sample over and over again all day long into the street. People would smash their fucking windows in. I get violent fantasies about torching those motherfucking ice cream trucks. And there is nothing you can do about this distracting, grating noise - nothing but clench your teeth in impotent rage and try to tune it out, try to focus on the book you are reading, but finally giving up, shutting your windows and blasting music - but yet still hearing that inescapable noise in the quieter parts of songs and in the silence between songs. I seriously need to get a pair of earplugs if I am to survive this summer.
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