reading the journals I started reading all those months ago.
I hop pathetically to my closet, only tripping once. Luckily, I catch
myself on my dresser. Once I have the journal in hand, I hop back to
the bed and get comfortable.
I have nothing better to do for the next week now that I can’t work.
I might as well commiserate over my past while I’m forced to
commiserate in the present.
Dear Ellen,
You hosting the Oscars was the greatest thing to happen to TV last year. I
don’t think I ever told you that. The vacuuming skit made me piss my pants.
Oh, and I recruited a new Ellen follower today in Atlas. Before you start
judging me for allowing him inside my house again, let me explain how that
came about.
After I let him take a shower here yesterday, I didn’t see him again last
night. But this morning, he sat by me on the bus again. He seemed a little
happier than the day before, because he slid into the seat and actually smiled at
me.
I’m not gonna lie, it was a little weird seeing him in my dad’s clothes. But
the pants fit him a lot better than I thought they were going to.
“Guess what?” he said. He leaned forward and unzipped his backpack.
“What?”
He pulled out a bag and handed it to me. “I found these in the garage. I
tried to clean them up for you because they were covered in old dirt, but I can’t
do much without water.”
I held the bag and stared at him suspiciously. It’s the most I’d ever heard
him say at once. I finally looked down at the bag and opened it. It looked like a
bunch of old gardening tools.
“I saw you digging with that shovel the other day. I wasn’t sure if you had
any actual gardening tools, and no one was using these, so . . .”
“Thank you,” I said. I was kind of in shock. I used to have a trowel, but the
plastic broke off the handle and it started giving me blisters. I asked my mother
for gardening tools for my birthday last year and when she bought me a full-
sized shovel and a hoe, I didn’t have the heart to tell her it’s not what I needed.
Atlas cleared his throat and then, in a much quieter voice, he said, “I know
it’s not like a real gift. I didn’t buy it or anything. But . . . I wanted to give
you something. You know . . . for . . .”