Thursday, Oct. 03, 2002 - 4:34 p.m.

8:48 a.m The guy from Closet by Design showed up early this morning to replace two defective doors and a broken hinge. This is the third time they have had to come out and replace their work. As much as I despise the company�s commitment to quality I admire their tenacity in continuing to hire a steady stream of ex-convicts as closet installers. It is truly a calming feeling knowing should someone break into my apartment while a Closet by Design employee is there no intruder will escape with his life.

9:00 a.m. I decide to watch TV while the ex-con, with the full body ink-suit, is at work. I feel pressured to watch ESPN just in case he can hear the TV from the bedroom. Fuck it! I switch over to Kelly Rippa.

10:10 a.m. Awoke from a hazy nap to find myself covered with a throw blanket from the bedroom closet. I think to myself, "How cute is that, the thug likes me." After the warm fuzzy thought drifts from my brain I immediately check all orifices for seminal fluid.

10:15 a.m. Just to ease my mind, I checked both dogs as well. Maybe you can trust men with tattoos on their throats.

11:20 a.m. Got a call from a business acquaintance that lives in New York. He proceeded to tell me that he had heard from his ex-boyfriend who heard from his hair cutter who heard from another client that I was newly single. He followed with, "Do I have a chance?" Long pause. Continued long pause.

11:24 a.m. I was at a loss of words, loss of a witty comeback, loss of all sound. In my mind I screamed, "No! Not a chance in Hell! Not a prayer. Not even a crumb of a prayer of a chance in Hell! Go to Hell!" What I finally said, "Give me a call next time you�re in L.A."

11:25 a.m. Carved the word "pussy-ass-wimp" into my thigh with a rusty paperclip.

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