We're all living on top of it

I have to call a cab at 7:20 tomorrow morning. I've got that written on a piece of paper in front of me. PHONE CAB 7:20.

LEAVE FOOD ON FLOOR FOR CATS. I do a thing, when I'm jittery about travel, where I make notes for myself that I'll never read. Sometimes I'll actually throw a note out as soon as I've written it. It's the writing down that helps me remember, not the note itself.

AIRPORT SHIT. That's another of my notes. Not, I realize now, a very helpful one. When I wrote it I was thinking about having to print out my confirmation number thingy, and trying to figure out exactly when I should call my cab.

7:20. Exactly.

It's weird that I'll see Marian tomorrow, but we'll both be in Montreal when I do. It's somehow less weird that I'll see Sachi tomorrow. More eeeep. Less weird.

GO AROUND CLOSING WINDOWS. I have to remember that. It's been hot out, and there are about forty open windows in every room with curtains flapping and potential burglars slipping in and out. Also: cats. Have to watch those cats.

FINISH PACKING. I did, too.

PILLS. You bet.

On the same piece of paper there's a drawing of a pineapple with a face, but you'll have to imagine it.

See you later.