i wait to be asked. neglect all tasks unless addressed specifically to me. say my name, yes. otherwise, watch things pile up: a spilled ashtray swept up with a sock then tossed beneath the bed, a cup encrusted with milk, beer, a banana peel. in every direction, a distraction. a drop in temperature, i stay in bed all day. encumbered by library books with pages sticky or smudged. i readjust the pillow behind my neck, lean back against the headboard. the cat walks into the room and mews. when i try to read my old journals the writing's illegible; i must spend two hours tracing and retracing a version of myself as presented in a paragraph with one useable sentence. the demands of daily upkeep puzzle me. my hair’s already dirty though its only been 36 hrs since my last shower.