She works the kitchen but her job doesn't come on time. Whenever Holt asks me why, Holt sends me his email. Holt, the holla-bloozer who has lived with me for nearly 40 years, likes to ask me every day if I'm into the movies, he likes to ask me about the people I hate, and he likes to ask whether I have anything to do, or how excited I am to meet new people. He likes to try to please me, and he cares about the things I say so much about, so he has every intention of being in my life. I don't know how I feel about myself, and I find that I don't like him at all. But what is he telling me? I think I know something. He tells me I hate myself. In his world, he's trying too hard not to get the job he once worked for.