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Sunday, Dec. 29, 2002 / 9:46 p.m. ~Just a Bit, With Nothing to Say~ Whew, I was just looking at a page with flashing stars in the background and I got really dizzy. I have nothing good to say so I don't intend to say much. I don't like really whiny diary entries, and I know I've written quite a few, but I try not to go on too much, knowing people read this crap. I got a nice email letter back from Sandy, probably the longest one he's ever written to me. I'm experiencing a lot of symptoms related to being a woman in her reproductive years, and perhaps we could leave it at that, or I could go on and on, but what would be the point? I'll write it out somewhere else if I feel the need. I'm not feeling well at all, and the least of it is physical. I dreamed this morning that I was late to work. It was over an hour after I was supposed to be there, and I finally noticed, called my Supervisor, and she was really pissed. I told her over and over again that it wasn't purposeful, I simply forgot, I was having trouble remembering what day it is... And surely I woke confused. I dreamed a person over at LiveJournal left a message on my answering machine telling me how I write like a teenager, but he likes Bulgarian movies and isn't one showing at the Georgia Film Festival? Hinting that he'd like to go, with me. Insulting and inviting at the same time. I woke from that one repeating it to myself so I wouldn't forget. Clearly I did not. All I did was sleep and dream. I got up and watched last week's "GL"s on tape. The episode from Christmas Day was a repeat, a Christmas show from 1992. Strange to see the old characters, and the same ones as now, ten years younger. I had to fast forward through a lot of it, it was too much to go back in time like that. Norman's yammering somewhere, feeling playful I suppose. Earlier, she was convinced she saw a bug on the wall, but I accused her of hallucinating. I'm not sure which of us is right, and it really doesn't matter. Tomorrow I do have to go to work, and I don't think I'll forget, but I'm still feeling really confused and out of sorts. Imagine how I'll feel after tomorrow... two more days off work, then two more days to work, then two more days off work. I hate this time of year, I really do. Someone on the Moby message boards posted a question, what would you wish for if you knew your wish would be granted? I immediately thought of money, a vast sum, an unimaginable sum, and I defend that wish completely. Money = Freedom. It's true. If I didn't have to work I could live. Here she is, my Norman girl, she brought her bunny into the hall outside this room. That was what the noise was about. Bunny is a mere remnant of his former self, a stuffed bunny she appropriated as a kitten, stole off my bed, a stuffed bunny with hardly any stuffing left, one eye missing, very little but threads remaining. She carries him around, leaves him at the door when I'm gone, carries him up and down the hall when I'm in bed for the night. Why she brought him to me now is a mystery, except maybe she's feeling happy. I don't know. A lot of drivel for someone who had nothing good to say, nothing worth writing. I'm holding a lot in, and it's best that way, for now. I don't look forward to tomorrow, but it will be nice when it's over. Cost of the War in Iraq
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