Bah! Another experiment gone awry. Nothing is calling to me, nothing is moving me… nothing is…
I have come to the conclusion that it is my job, my responsibility, my mission, to rid the world of imperfection. This will be life-long work, of course – especially since I’ve never been on an airplane or jet. I knew it was up to me, when I permanently closed down the diner… kind of hard to stay open with no waitresses or cooks, right?
I never felt so alive
I want to smash something.Feel it squish between my fingers
The final quiver before life leaves it — if you can call that a life….
I didn’t die.
I have also discovered something amazing. The headaches – those that I condemned – are actually a precurser for my doing Gods work. I guess it’s His way of calling me, telling me I’m needed.
My head aches. Sometimes, there is a white-hot, blinding light behind my eyes and all I want to do is scream and scream and scream
Could there have been something in my food?
Am I poisoned?am I dieing?
Busy. Time consuming work, evading those intent on poisoning one. The new omelettes were good, true enough. But some poisons are like that, enhance flavor so the victim is more likely to finish it. No more worries there, however.
How delightful. The new cook at the diner, makes better omelet’s then the previous cook.
I am most annoyed. Highly annoyed. Infuriatingly annoyed! I returned to the diner this morning, for one of my favorite omelets. The cook, foul vile creature that he is, came out and told me to leave, that my money was no good there nor was I wanted as a customer.
How dare he!
He, of the filthy fingernails and bulbous nose. He of the grease stained smelly clothes. He dares to say I am not wanted there?
Care for some… sugah?
Well, there’s none to be found.
At least, not at the diner.