I Like Saying "Tomb of Decay"

My first day attempting a strict new routine - one with coffee, and exercise, and writing - has been barely half successful. I vastly overslept, then immediately lost focus when I received an e-mail informing me that my new $600.00 miniDV camcorder would be rush-delivered to my apartment in Harlem. Where I don’t live.

Of course, I didn’t order the camcorder, so no problem. Except the identity theft.

Hours were spent on the phone, canceling the order, reporting the card in my hand “stolen.” All I can say is - FUCK THE POST OFFICE. They’ve managed to forward 1 out of every 35 pieces of my mail - at best. This has already cost me late fees and lost me replies from contests and producers. Now, it’s put my credit card bills in the hands of some creep that’s moved into my former residence, who’s ordering camcorders and merchandise from jessicalondon.com. FUCK THAT CREEP. AND FUCK THE POST OFFICE.

Most of all, fuck NEW YORK CITY. Just cause. May that dank, crowded tomb collapse in decay.

In the immortal words of Soul Coughing:
New York, New York
I won’t go back

To which, they add, in another tune:
In one way or another,
We are all going to Reseda,
Someday
To die.

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