Things change. Thank fucking god. I almost feel like a person now.
I'm having a hard time with some of it. A for instance: a year from now, I'll probably have a real job. Like, the kind with regular hours that one needs a BA to land. The surrealism of that concept I cannot begin to describe.
Of course, I might not. My resistance to such things and preference for an odd hours job selling, say, books, may win out. I guess we'll see...
Meanwhile...holy fuck! It's the cold that just won't die. Had to take another sick day yesterday, which is not what the sick-days-put-behind college boy needs. Fuck...I blame Osama. He's hiding in my nasal cavities, causin' trouble as usual. Oh, Osama, when will you learn!?
Right. Anyway, life is good. Mostly. Or, it could be worse (much, much worse), to take the Norwegian perspective.
My horoscope for the week recommended that I fight the Capricornian instinct to not ask questions. This sounds about right, but I'm such a prototypical Capricorn that this'll be the prototypical uphill battle. Like Bunker Hill. Yay for military history analogies. Right...
Update, 11/12/04, 10:40ish:
Already a hazy morning; Dayquil, while tame compared to its counterpart, does funny stuff to a guy.
Terrible dreams last night. Stress. Guilt.
We had our first face-to-face fight in my dreams. I couldn't stand to see her angry with me. The worst part: said fight was caused by jealousy. Mine, of course. That kind of realism tends to be the most terrible kind of thing one can run across in dreams.
Horay for payday.
I hate November. It's an ugly month.
Left wondering, as always, if I'm too subtle.
Left happy that today will not be a day without her.
Have a good one.
I'm having a hard time with some of it. A for instance: a year from now, I'll probably have a real job. Like, the kind with regular hours that one needs a BA to land. The surrealism of that concept I cannot begin to describe.
Of course, I might not. My resistance to such things and preference for an odd hours job selling, say, books, may win out. I guess we'll see...
Meanwhile...holy fuck! It's the cold that just won't die. Had to take another sick day yesterday, which is not what the sick-days-put-behind college boy needs. Fuck...I blame Osama. He's hiding in my nasal cavities, causin' trouble as usual. Oh, Osama, when will you learn!?
Right. Anyway, life is good. Mostly. Or, it could be worse (much, much worse), to take the Norwegian perspective.
My horoscope for the week recommended that I fight the Capricornian instinct to not ask questions. This sounds about right, but I'm such a prototypical Capricorn that this'll be the prototypical uphill battle. Like Bunker Hill. Yay for military history analogies. Right...
Update, 11/12/04, 10:40ish:
Already a hazy morning; Dayquil, while tame compared to its counterpart, does funny stuff to a guy.
Terrible dreams last night. Stress. Guilt.
We had our first face-to-face fight in my dreams. I couldn't stand to see her angry with me. The worst part: said fight was caused by jealousy. Mine, of course. That kind of realism tends to be the most terrible kind of thing one can run across in dreams.
Horay for payday.
I hate November. It's an ugly month.
Left wondering, as always, if I'm too subtle.
Left happy that today will not be a day without her.
Have a good one.
VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
we should have a party for our birthdays. foshizzle my lil snizzle.
your journals amaze me.
friends indeed.