The dog peed on the rug this morning. He kept getting up and out of bed while we were trying to snooze our alarm, and then he started sitting progressively closer to the door and panting. We tried to stretch it, and just take him out when we were leaving like we normally do, but then he peed and we had to throw the rug out.

It was a cheap rug. We got it at Target. I just hope he doesn’t think that’s an okay thing to do now. I mean, I know he couldn’t hold it, but I hope he doesn’t get familiar with the idea of peeing in the home. I felt bad but I had to yell at him. I felt like the dad on Magnolia. I’ve always dreaded being him, and I don’t even have kids yet.

As soon as I entered the laundromat I saw our green Amazon bag. It was sitting in a metal cart with the clothes I had requested to be hung hanging all around it. I told the young man behind the counter that I would hang the clothes at home and I gave him my money.

He went and sat by a girl who also worked there and I went and put my wet clothes in the Amazon bag. On the way home I stopped at a little store. There were mangoes in cardboard boxes. I asked the woman if she had any bread. She didn’t speak English. She was watching a Mexican show on television. I said, “Bimbo.” and she showed me a bunch of pastries.

“No.” I said. “Sandwhiches.”

She went and found two loaves.

“I only need one.”

It cost two thirty nine.

I hope that I placed the right postage on each of the documents. I only put one stamp on each of the envelopes even though one of the envelopes had four pieces of paper in it. After dropping the envelopes into the big blue mailbox out front of the post office, being pretty sure that they won’t be picked up until Monday, I headed towards the bank near the laundromat, holding the box of envelopes in my hand and passing the laundromat on the way.

There are two tasks that need to be accomplished at the bank. First, I need to get twenty dollars so that I can pay for the laundry. Second, I need a sheet of checks so that rent can be paid.

Everyone who works at the bank is black. There is a man wearing a suit who asks me how I’m doing. I tell him that I’m doing alright. He nods his head. He then tells a kid that he knows too much after the kid demands that the woman he is with get him a sucker. The teller, a young woman, gives the woman who the kid is with a sucker to give to the kid and then she takes one for herself.

I am next in line. The young woman calls me over while sucking on her sucker and talking to the young man next to her. I tell her the two things I need from her. She tells me that the sheets come with three checks on them.

“I’ll take ‘em.” I say.

She asks me how I want my cash.

“Two tens, I guess.”

It doesn’t matter. The laundry is going to cost sixteen dollars.

She hands me the two tens and goes and gets the checks. They only have Musette’s name on them.

I tell myself that they should work, taking them without causing any sort of scene.

The only option I had for getting this to the unemployment office was to mail it. It is Saturday. I scoured the apartment for envelopes but couldn’t find any. Musette told me to buy one at the post-office but by the time I got there, it was three-fifteen and the post-office had just closed.

I walked back to the Asian store. There was an aisle specifically for envelopes.

“This is a good store. Better than I thought.”

A lady was in the aisle, so I had to maneuver around her. I almost bought some large brown ones but then the lady left and I found the number 10 whites. So I bought a box of them for a dollar forty nine, paying the man two dollars cash. He did not give me exact change. I thought for a second that he short changed me a dollar but as I fiddled with the coins I realized he had only shorted me a penny. I told him we were cool and then I left the store.

On a bench outside the neighborhood coffee shop that sells that really interesting coffee I like so much, I filled out the envelopes. The sun was blaring on my unscreened skin. I filled one out upside down, so I had to make another one. It’s important to get things right when dealing with the bureaucracy, however, I realized that I had gone against the department’s requests by putting my id’s on two different papers, one with the front sides and one with the backs.

“I’m not going to make another copy.” I said. They were twenty five cents apiece. That guy really knows how to squeeze you.

I am a gauge, a spiritual gauge, bobbing, floating, sinking, soaring, depending on the level of umph a place presents. A current traveling between rivers and lakes, places and people. A talentless wreck, a true American pervert. Some might call this perseverance, others call it failure.

It comes out in the wash that I am not me but that which I observe. Thus it is another day begins. Tomorrow, here at last. Heatwave in the city followed by a flash flood.

Last night, Lilli told me that she was considering removing herself from everything and starting an entirely new internet persona. I told her that I would be devastated. She told me to keep dreaming.

Opening the letters from the unemployment office, I learn that after combining my Oregon wages with my New York ones I have been approved for 192 dollars a month but that I only have ten days to get proof of my identification to the unemployment office.

So I put my shorts and flip-flops on, buckle my belt and fill my right pocket with a dollar’s worth of quarters. I go to a grocery store run by Asian people, remembering seeing that they fax and copy. The man who works there is taking trash to the curb. He comes in with me. A woman gets in line ahead of me. She is buying two packs of balloons and wants to know how much it would cost for the man to fill them for her.

“Seventy-five cents a balloon.” he says.

“Seventy-five cents?”

“Helium expensive.”

He presses the release on his tank, letting a couple spurts out.

“Don’t waste any.” the woman says.

The man tells her that he’ll give her a discount.

“Twelve dollars for all of them.”

“I’ll think about it” the woman says.

The man looks at me. I give him my identification and tell him that I need copies of both front and back. He hands them to a female worker who runs the copies for him. She sneezes on my identification while handing it back to me. I consider sanitizing it before putting it in my wallet but don’t want to carry my social security card all the way home, exposed like that.

“The bacteria will probably die soon.” I say.

She fell asleep after one episode of Bob’s Burgers and made me turn off Netflix before the next one started. The episode we watched was a Halloween special wherein this one girl who wanted to be friends with Louise trapped everyone in a cardboard fort that ended up getting smashed by the loading dock of a delivery truck because Louise didn’t want to be her friend.

I smothered Musette’s head with pillows and played Destiny until the sun came up, leveling up my Iron Banner experience, receiving a gold and white shader from the Iron Banner Vendor which when worn during Iron Banner matches provides more Iron Banner reputation.