|
|
5:10PM - Thursday May 13, 2004 Kryptonite had died. He'd gone to get his lungs cleaned. (Don't ask, I don't know.) He bitched for a while before his appointment because he'd had it done before and he hadn't liked it. He grumbled about living in a house full of chain smokers, and said goodbye. Kryptonite died during the procedure because of a congenital heart defect no one knew he had. The next scene was Roommate and I getting into a low blue convertible sports car driven by our friend BigRed. Roommate insisted that we go to Value Village because he had to shop for the commercial he was working on this weekend. I was in my pyjamas, hair all fucked up, eyes all red from crying, unable to really say anything--I was barely keeping it together. Then we all went to the funeral home because I had to make the arrangements. John Candy was the evil funeral director who kept trying to make me buy the expensive mahogany casket--I kept saying, "Kryptonite wouldn't want that." I knew he'd be mad at me for spending that much money on a corpse, and I just wanted a plain pine box or something. He wouldn't really care what hapened to his body. While I was sitting there, crying, making funeral arrangements, I turned to the guys and said, "Well, at least I'll finally meet Kryptonite's parents... at the funeral..." And then I giggled hysterically and burst into tears. At this point I woke up, completely devastated, tears rolling down my cheeks--I just gave in and cried for a while. What a wretched way to start the day. My hormones are fucking with me. They will have to die. Comfort me over here.
|