fiction #2.

Jillian

I head over to Anya’s shortly after work.  What a frickin’ day.  I pop a Valium on the drive over to take the edge off after being talked to by my boss, so the world was starting to look peachy-keen pleasant again.  Apparently, my attitude needed an adjustment, according to the boss-man.  So I sweetly asked him, “When are you going to adjust your attitude?”  He just raised an eyebrow at me, and replied, “Well, yes then, I see, that’s how it’s going to be, is it?”  Ugh, I love my job.  not.  The only reason I’m still there and not nursing it… is the benefits.  I guess I am nursing my benefits.  I snort, at my own sick humor.

“Where is she,” I mutter to myself.

I didn’t see her car parked out front, so I take it that she’s not home yet and let myself in.  It’s already dark outside, and I feel around for the light switch.  We never know what sh*tbomb is awaiting from her 19 year old cat.  I can’t believe she hasn’t sent that cat on to better things.  All clear.  My legs have been buzzing nonstop all day – even before the martinis. Stupid MS, I mutter, as I walk with some swagger (my new normal) to her kitchen and start searching for an already open bottle of wine.  nothing.  darn her, drinking solo.  I make my way to her make-shift bar and grab a bottle of whiskey.  Anya dated a guy who loved whiskey back in 2005.  So she loved whiskey as a result.  and now I do as well.  I acquire a shot glass and pour myself a hefty shot.  I peer down at the golden brown liquid, and take a deep breath to stop the tears.  after breathing out, I throw my head back and suck down the liquid heaven.  I drain it in one swoop, unlike Annie, who sips her shots.  the woodsy, sharp sting starts to make its way into the rest of my body, and life begins to feel okay again.   I pour another shot and replace the bottle on her bar, and start wandering around her condo.  it’s her treehouse.  there are trees that surround the entire building, and her picture windows provide the reason why she bought the place…sweet access to all the nature outside.  she loves it.  we both love it.  it took her some time to pull the trigger to buy something – as that would mean she would have to be at Yogo for years to come.  thank goodness.  I don’t know what I would do if she weren’t there.  she has made my MS sh*t all the more bearable; she has been through the worst of times with me.  Thank GOD.  if there is even a God.  I wander over to her dream board to see what crazy sh*t she has on there now.

Huh.  she’s writing again, I can see.  and also wants the Tate, as I’m looking at photo of a random guy buried in the background with dark hair and jade green eyes.  I can see right through her, as in denial as she is.  She really likes this guy.

~

second entry.

as is.  xo

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