Roses for M

W-r sent roses to M. She is unaware of the sender's identity. He did not attach a card and darted away from her door after propping them up. Must give him credit for knowing her school schedule well enough to determine her return home date such that flowers would not wilt while waiting. M made startled sound of surprise and looked the length of the hall as though the bare walls concealed her admirer's identity. Not so much as a potted plant obstructs the view. Do not know precisely what she looked for.

Have decided my obsession with people watching may be too engrossed. There is a logic leap between me being impressed that W-r knows her schedule and not thinking twice about having the information myself in order to peer through the peep-hole in a timely manner.

As W-r is aware I saw him leave flowers upon my own return from work, I am mildly surprised he did not ask me to stay silent on the matter. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that though I watch, I rarely speak. They are as aliens from another planet most days. Argument allows I am as well.

Note to self: "Mia, time for self-analysis of priorities. May very well determine I am perfectly sane and healthy--will count on that truth. However, it is important to give the impression of occasional self-inventory regardless of true revelations. I am, of course, always right."

F*cked Up

Note to self: "Mia, never get sodding drunk with your single friend. If too late, do not agree to game of strip poker over vodka shots. If beyond that, is not a good idea to collapse into bed together without returning clothes to proper order."

Addendum: "And Mia, tape this message to bathroom mirror as clearly lesson did not take after first two instances of same."

All hail the porcelain gods. Fucking give me a washcloth.