blNK NOTE 2,

Bored in the queue at HEB. This morning I bumped into Sam for the first time since, you know. So awkward. He’s married and acting all old even though I know he goes home to play d&d.

He mentioned us all heading down to New Orleans again. Him, Dina and Croswell. Guess what good old Nina said? She said YES of course even though she meant NO and she said YES NEXT WEEKEND IS FINE even though NEXT WEEKEND IS DEFINITELY NOT FINE.

It’s, what, an eight hour drive? Which means three hours of awkwardly answering questions about Japan, three hours of Dina getting irritated at Sam for driving too fast and two hours of singing along to show tunes.

Where is my wind-back-time-button. I wouldn’t ask for much, just back to the moment before I agreed to going with them rather than faking my own death right there in the post office.

Why can’t you still be here. All I ever wanted to do was be with you. You were like a hundred people in one.