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Jun 2012
My boss always tells me to tuck in my shirt, but I have never listened until now. I never realized how wonderful it would be before I tried it. Now I know, and ask myself why I don’t do this more often! But I won’t tell my boss, because he’ll get fat about it. Yes, he’ll just get really fat. Does that really happen?

Today I learned that it’s always raining, we just can’t always see it. Or feel it. But if you’ve ever wondered what those little flickering things in your vision are, those are rain that we don’t notice very often. It’s even raining under the ground, so we can never escape. In fact, it’s ESPECIALLY raining under ground.

For some reason, even though I’m moving my legs really fast, I can only go slowly. It’s like I’m stepping through molasses. And everybody is impatient, and tapping their feet, but I just can’t move any faster. I’m stuck. And they want me to do something but it’s all in Russian, and I don’t understand. I’m not familiar with their ways. And why are they all on toilets?

God. It’s SO MUCH garlic. I cannot eat all this garlic. It’s mounds and mounds, and I could never finish it. Like, I’d just sneak it into my pants and shirt, but then I’d smell like it for months, and have to take a vinegar bath. I’m so embarrassed. God, I am not eating all this. Why do they keep giving me more? Don’t they understand? I want NO MORE GARLIC. I even made a sign that has a picture of them not giving me more. Clearly I wasted my time.

I am not mad, but I’m annoyed with a hyena. It put my left sock all over its mouth and got saliva and mouth on it, and now my left foot is on strike. I didn’t even know foots could do that, but they can and it’s annoying. A lot more makes sense now. Maybe it’s a part of growing up.

I got a school assignment to measure how many broccolis wide my **** is. I think that’s ****** harassment, and I told my parents, and they said if it is, it will help me build character. I’m mad at them for that, and for replacing my school bag with an eye clinic bag. As if I need an eye clinic bag.

Apparently, I’ve reached a point in life where I get to choose a life upgrade. I have a lot of choices. I can either levitate things, but only small things like chocolates, or I can talk to any animal including humans, or I can order the world’s finest cheeses. I feel very indecisive, so I’m not choosing any. I’ll regret this.

In the shower today, there was a bottle that said, “eat me” or “try me” or something, and I poured some into my hand to put it in my hair. But then, centipedes came out and I tried to scream, but all I could do was woof. Then all of a sudden, I was in front of a fat lady with a bun, who kept yelling and calling me Veronica Laugh, and then I realized that was my name.

A UPS guy came to my door to deliver the cheeses I ordered, but he just gave me a chia pet. And I told him I didn’t order one, but he just kept laughing and getting undressed. I didn’t like that, so I tried to yell stop, but I only woofed. He told me that was a terrible joke, and I shouldn’t do that. I didn't stop because I was scared. Now I have to be in purgatory, plus I get my pants revoked.

As it turns out, I have an ecleptic 4, which means my fingers on one hand are turning into sausage-like intestine looking things. I have a hospital bed with a gross looking teddy bear and a ringer I can pull if I want more morphine. My dad came in and told me this whole thing is my fault for holding in my ***.

There are clouds right out my window that I can ride! I always thought clouds weren’t solid, so you can’t ride them, but actually that’s just a myth. You can sit on them and jump on them and even eat them, but they taste like cotton. I tried to bring one home for my sister, but I dropped it on the ground and it got dirt on it and now it’s ruined. Dirt never comes out, even with oxy clean.
Literally, dreams I've had before.
Mary Rosen
Written by
Mary Rosen
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   Lior Gavra
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