Friday, September 23, 2016

A Word on The Victorian

The power went out while I was working today.

Wait, that sounds too calm.

The fucking power went out while I was WORKING today. If I thought that this building's power was going to go out every five seconds, then I wouldn't be putting up with Oscar the roach and his family of thousands, an air conditioner that only pretends to work, and an elevator that appears to be solely for decoration. I have two criteria for my place of residence: 1) It must be a short walk away from a large supply of alcohol, and 2) It has to have electricity. I would use parchment and quill pens if I could, but I'm a business consultant with a home office, not Thomas Jefferson.

Thomas Jefferson was an asshole.

I pace around, tapping the end of my cane against the wooden floor nervously. I run my thumb over the series of short parallel lines engraved into its rounded handle. The symbol for running water. And everlasting life.

I comb my left hand through my short black hair. Paired with my blue eyes, high cheekbones, and winning dimples, my black hair is quite the charmer. Too bad my computer doesn't run on charm...I guess I'm done for the night. Thanks universe, you always find the right way to screw me over.

I need a drink