(no subject)

I didn't get any of the stuff done today I wanted to do because my mother didn't come til close to 4:30 this afternoon. I was vaguely worried, since she left work around 2:30 and I had no idea where she was and she seemed a bit peeved when I expressed my concern and then irritation at not being told she was going to be gone all afternoon.

So, nothing done, too little time to do anything and everything. Brett, I'm never going to sleep again if I get the chance. You have no idea.

Melynda and I are having a ridculously funny discussion about Gene now. She told him she doesn't believe he has a family cause she's never seen them.

I'm vastly frustrated about time right now. My schedule puts me at odds with a lot of things, and the lack of my own car limits my movements.Consequently I find myself wasting a lot of time waiting.

It's driving me insane trying to figure out stuff for the role-playing game, because I can't spend the time I want on it, and things are moving a bit too fast now for me to get it all together. It's partially my own fault, for making such a commitment to storylines and stuff. But I like what I'm doing, and I wouldn't give my character to anyone else really. So I have to figure something out soon before I just get pissed off about the whole thing.

(no subject)

You are ALEC SCUDDER from the novel MAURICE by E.M.
Forrester


Which homosexual Victorian character are you?
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I never would have picked that one. But I suppose I've never given a lot of consideration to which homosexual Victorian man I would be, so there you go. Nice to know, isn't it? Though I really like men's Edwardian coats better.

~~~~~~~
fragment, unsure where it goes

He waits up for me, and when I come home we sit for awhile in silence. It's not quite companionable, but not hostile either. I don't know what to call it. But when he does speak, the voice is rich in the back of my mind. I could listen to him for days.
~~~~~~~

It pleases me too often to be cryptic.

(no subject)

We are all over committed in such strange ways, she said. I haven't heard anything more true about this state of being lately.

The apartment is sorely in need of cleaning. But when I start thinking about it, I have that Frodo moment. "I can't do this, Sam." What I need is a new cd to sing along with and a pleasant enough day with no other obligations. Instead, I'll sign up for my health insurance and mess with inconsequential things. Such as debate the wisdom of eating Chinese food.

It has come to the point where I no longer feel guilty for leaving journalism. The things I wanted to do would never be done in this world. The age of newsprint empires and stories that could change an entire world with the truth has passed. We are left with the dubious comfort and smothering presence of info-tainment. It's not real, and they know it.

Even just spending one night over at the apartment has obviously changed my level of stress.