(or, a collage of Notes app thoughts on the month of December)
I’m peeling the paper off a beer bottle, an unconscious nervous response made more difficult by my stubby, chewed-down fingernails (another unconscious nervous response) when I think of the voice of my mother chiding me, You know I can’t get the bottle deposit back if you do that. I suddenly feel stupid and selfish, worried that the bar wants the bottle money and now I’m robbing this nice, small establishment of their rightful reimbursement. I know this is irrational so I begin to feel stupid and selfish, this time for allowing myself so much self pity. My clothes now feel too tight and I am sure my makeup looks gaudy and childish. Before I put the bottle down for good and try to think of something else, I rub my thumbs over the last lines of paper still glued onto the glass and count them in my head. I lose track of how many lines there are. I notice I am biting my nails again when I taste blood and stale beer inside my mouth. Tomorrow, the sun will set at 3:54 p.m.