the sim

when did the new chuck e cheese mascot become a recovering meth head? he looks like teardrop.

ha ha no no really.

i have no actual work ethic. i deserve my pay. but now that i will soon share a fridge with Guy, i have had to shift my thoughts up and to the side.

i can provide

• textiles
• wood furniture
• a cat
• plants
• white dishes
• cast iron.

immaterially, i can provide:

• cleaning service
• data entry
• bill and mail organization
• +15 mood

i have been playing the sims 3 so much. i was in the kitchen earlier and thought i was in the game. confused, slightly labored because i thought i had done it all before, like a dream after the snooze button. maybe as a result, i ate cereal three times today.

and when the character in the game is playing a computer game, i can watch her meters drop, slowly–food, social, bladder, energy. there is no immaterial meter.

there is no meter for meaning, for contribution, heart, for the feeling when the day goes along and drags you with it, the sound of frank ocean, looking at a bottle of meds–did the cable man see these, survey calls from petco, the satisfied look on the cat’s face, the unplugged clock, the bag of tools slumped on the ground, the committee’s report regarding your job performance, the pedagogy meter, the pile of boxes meter, the stack of paper and the lists of lists.

i submitted work to three small places. things are crawling along.

—

a man with a green mohawk has twice knocked on my door, thinking it’s his sister’s place. both times i pretend to be irritated, but i actually find it amusing.

this is spring break for me, so mostly i see repairmen, cablemen, and the man with the green mohawk. and the cat, the shrieking female. i know i am not in the game because there is no cat in the game. that is the most striking difference.