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  • Two days ago we had Pizza Hut pizza. That was Thursday. I picked it up at the counter where there was a big TV mounted on the wall. Yesterday we had Harmony Brewing Company pizza. That was Friday. It had olives and goat cheese on it. The pizza did, not Friday. Friday had men hiking Mount Kilimanjaro with minimal hiking gear and women looking at their daughters becoming women, the same as them and yet very different. Imperfect clones.

    What I'm saying is that Friday, yesterday, contained many billions of emotions and experiences between all of the people and all of the mass that this planet holds. More than just the olives on my and Jamie and Josh and Phoebe and Michael and Morgan's pizza. Michael and Morgan are in optometry school. They passed their boards last week. They're in town just for tonight. Josh and Phoebe, to my right, are getting married soon. Two months from Monday. Josh is my roommate. He's moving out to live with his almost-wife real soon. She has things I can't provide. She's real pretty and smells like a girl.

    We are downstairs in an old house in Grand Rapids, Michigan. It is the end of March and it is cold, below freezing, and so we walk down the road to get ice cream because we make our own way in the world. We're trailblazers on our way to froyo. By now Brett and Gina are here, they're married, they got married shortly after college. They went to college here in town, just a few miles up the road. So did Michael and Josh. Same school. Phoebe she went to their rival school but they never knew each other then. I went to school way down in southern Ohio. Now we're in this old living room together talking about our jobs and wine and eye problems. Morgan and Michael are disagreeing a little bit about an eye question that Gina asked. I am listening but waiting to talk. Jamie is upstairs doing homework. Later we'll all play Cards Against Humanity.

    It is Saturday and I want pizza. The only reason I would not get it is because I had it Thursday and Friday. Pizza three days in a row seems excessive. But honestly why not? It's unhealthy? I will die from it? Well then I died from eating pizza three days in a row. What a story for friends to tell. Or the girl I will pick up the pizza from at the Pizza Hut counter. Next week she'll ask her coworkers if they heard about the guy who died after having too much pizza. And they'll say no and then keep watching the big TV above their little heads.
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