panang curry

. It has to be YOUR way. But when it isn't, you panic, but hold your ground. You keep your gun pointed and trigger finger ready, but you'd never really hurt anyone. Though you like being tough, feeling control, you often enjoy blending in and being part of the ordinary human race. Take the What Pulp Fiction Character Are You? quiz.

Oh yeah. Christian and I used to do this routine, drinking coffee in the middle of the night. Lately I've been thinking about robbing diners. I need a Pumpkin to go with me.

Work was slow, quiet. I've been having what perhaps could be called panic attacks. Hallucinations. Paranoia. Tonight, it was the idea that a certain person I rang up was about to pull a gun and go for the register. A few days ago it was a man in the aisle, standing behind me. I almost screamed, so certain he was about to grab me. It's just this eerie, awful feeling.

Tomatoes, bread, and butter. Happiness in simplicity. for lunch I had curry with Gene. That curry is addictive.

In the car I think a lot about my tattoo, and about getting another one. Where, what, when... I long for that experience again. I could give up a lot of things for it.

Today I finished The Swell Season. Skvorecky has such a grasp on the tubulence on that time, both in his character and in the world. There is such a desire for life. I suppose that is a common feeling round the world, yet rarely have I seen it written so beautifully.

I want to crawl into a hot shower and fall asleep.