o.f. noticed the mouse while she got ready in the morning.

once she left, so did i.

he (deduced by way of his belligerence) stayed in the kitchen but kept trying to venture inward, toward my tiny living room. he's cute. but unwelcomed.

i took my two meetings for the day from home, then ventured to pause cafe and sat in a little tiny slot between two women also working from their laptop. i felt unnatural in this faux-digital-nomad space. the entire space is meant to feel like a foreign country, and it almost succeeds in being so.

a late-twenties asian woman, pretty and moneyed, bought a drink and a meal for a homeless man.

the woman to my left looks ten years older than me and it still feels more apt to describe her as a girl. she pecks away at a "rakuten advertising" panel and chats with support on her screen.

the girl on the other side of me left a napkin with some notes jotted — just a list of things to do for class, an article about electric vehicles to write.

(i'm starting to think all they teach the college students about is climate change. i have not heard a conversation from a college student in weeks that did not revolve around the environment.)

(i'd like our planet to be treated with much more respoct, don't get me wrong. but the institutionalized obsession is a bit odd.)

i ate a messy sandwich and waited for the exterminator to call.

ernest showed up and put some poison around my apartment, sealed up some holes, planted a bunch of glue traps.