(Mailed to Amy Shipley)

I left my planner at this bar last night. After a 12 hour day at school I had to go make a flyer for Betty's Blue Star Lounge that I've been employed on and off at for five years now. I don't know why Gene, the owner, likes me to go in and make flyers in front of him when I can easily do it at home on my own time…that I have completely none of lately. But who's complaining? I was glad when he offered me a ride home afterwards. My contacts were so dry it was hard to blink. And it was the least he could do because he owes me money. I woke up at a decent time this morning. I dreamt of my phone and something about the buttons getting sawed off. I think it was because I was hitting snooze in my sleep. So I did my morning ritual (of the past three days) putting on my big hoody and checking my email while eating a bowl of cereal. There were a couple of dates I needed to remember so I went to grab my planner to keep on top of things. IT WAS NOT IN MY BAG. FUCK. Did I leave it at school? Yea, I left it in the cage. No…I had it at Betty's. Shit I left it at Betty's. When will I have time to go to Betty's again? I did tell Gene that I would be back in a couple of days to finish other stuff for him, and I'd like to get paid some cash money. I just feel so frazzled with out my planner. It would have been even worse if I forgot my phone today. Luckily I looked for it before I got too far down the block. On the bus, I sat in the back next to this large man who had to hold his arm over so it wouldn't be on top of me. "I'm small, he can deal with it," I thought. After we let everyone off at the Blue Line stop, there were tons of seats open. I looked around. One person got up to switch seats. I looked again and stood up to switch seats too. Then someone walked by me. I looked at the two empty seats across from me as two people sat down. I sat back down. Arrrrg, Charlie Brown style. I had hesitated. I hate it when I do that. Those words went through my head a couple of times. "I hesitated." But, what a perfect phrase to write on a Post-it. I decided I was going to stick it on the wall on Wabash just north of Roosevelt. But guess what? My Post-its are in my planner, my planner at Betty's. Poop. I had a pen and my camera on me though. I've always admired the street artists so I thought I would write on one of the scraps of paper left over from old flyers. I found a square piece where I had to squat down to write on. I took a picture. No one had seen me and it honestly left me feeling more confused about this whole Post-It idea as I walked away with the Devo version of I Can't Get No Satisfaction in my head.