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May 17, 2001

Suddenly, there are two toothbrushes in my toothbrush…thingie.  Holder.  Cup.  Whatever you wanna call it.  There used to be one, now there are two.  Make no mistake, my toothbrush did not suddenly divide itself into two all by itself.  It is not a worm, you can't cut it and suddenly make two new ones.  I know all of this, and yet there is my red toothbrush, and one black one in my toothbrush…thingie.  Holder.  Cup.  Place Where The Toothbrushes Go.

 

Do you know what this means?  This means at some point, he had to go to the grocery store, and go down the toothpaste aisle and grab one.  No, even better, he had to pick a COLOR.  Because they just don't make the black ones.  No, they're usually red, or green, or blue.  But this is a very distinctive black one, not that common.  So he spent time in the grocery store looking for the one color toothbrush he could live with when he's brushing his teeth at my place.  Which meant he had to think…about me.

You are such a total nerd.  Oh yes, I am, oh yes I am.  I'm looking for signs all over the place that he thinks about me.  He left a shirt on the chair the other day.  He will have to come back for it at some point.  There's an Afghan Whigs CD in my car.  There are two toothbrushes in the Toothbrush Thingie.  See, this is what I'm reduced to.  Looking for all of these things (okay, I tripped over the CD) and turning them into signs that he thinks about me.  Because he rarely says it. 

No, you know what he does?