mei

writing coverletters and desperately hoping that the people i interviewed with on friday call me back. i really really really want that job.

ate nachos earlier.. the carne asada was more like pot-roast, but they were still greasy and wonderful and tasty. i feel kind of gross now, though. oh well.

the sun sings in my eyes, blinding, deafening me. today i sang back to the sun, and its white light shivered into a billion pieces, icy treble of triangular brightness. when the mists cleared, the sky shone blue, and the twin curves of flying crows cawed their way home. i sang to the trees, too. each leaf danced a different dance, fluttering staccato.