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2001-11-21 / 3:50 p.m. ~This Feels Good, So Far~ Am I the only one who actually reads diaries? I mean, I don't like to miss a page, an entry, and if I have, I read backwards, read today's, click "previous" (which always seems to work, unlike "next"), want to catch up. I look at my stats and get frustrated when I see people read whatever is on the index page, nothing more, that's it, that's the overall imrpession of Joleen, when it is SO not! Oh well, this is where you remind me that I write this for me. The fact that YOU read it is a bonus, sometimes, a secret, mysterious, gratifying little bonus. Sometimes it's even less. After the migraine, the pizza, the television, the good night's sleep, after Julia Roberts on Letterman, I felt great today! Like Tony the Fucking Tiger or something. Bouncy, a veritable spring in my casual week all week sneakers, my jeans with the embroidered hems, yeah, payday, Friday on a Wednesday, everyone going somewhere, but I'm already here, no place to get to. No family, and this is good, and bad, but mostly a feeling of freedom. Hugs all around since I missed P.'s this morning, I got to work after she did, for a change. Catch up on her hug, and accept her "Bless You" because today I don't mind, and she is the best, truly. Even Lulu hugs me, asks if I'm feeling better, and it feels good. The second L. is out today, and K. talks to us instead, and we work hard, lots of paperwork, lots, and the phone calls are coming and it's too crazy for day before a holiday, but we do it, and it feels good. And we can leave early, so we skip lunch, most of us. I get online on my break, get email from the stranger, and we'll meet tomorrow, it's just a hockey game. Not a date. It's just a free ticket, that's all. I don't mind, he's a fan, he has season tickets, he's a real fan, I'd guess, it's just hockey. And we leave early, everyone wants to leave no earlier than 3:00, but the Manager (M) needs to let someone go before that, and I say, oh, well, er, um, okay, I guess, okay, yeah, I'll go, and I hug everyone, everyone, the manager (M), the supervisor, who gives the worst and most distant hug, K., P., Lulu, L., yes, even L., and the temp, who turns to me as if to say, "I can't leave you out", because he is leaving early too. So I hug him for the first time and I feel his dreads and they're hard, and I realize I've never before felt a dreadlock, and I wish I were not attracted to him, but I am.... And we leave. 2:30, and I deposit my paycheck, get some cash, come home and eat leftover pizza, listen to The Grateful Dead and Me'Shell Ndegeocello, and the windows are open because the air cleared night before last, it's beautiful now, as it should be, no more smog, the sky is deep, deep blue, the air is crisp, and cool, the sun shines, the birds sing, the remaining leaves drift softly to the ground from their places on the trees. I'm going to see "Amelie" shortly, at the way cool intown single screen movie theatre, the one that shows the foreign and independent films, and those are my favorites. "Amelie" is French, and I am a FRANCOPHILE!, thank you very much, so this will be good, to sit for an hour or more listening to people speak French, read subtitles in a single flash, listen more than read. And there shouldn't be much traffic on the way back, the traffic is happening now, and an hour ago, and two hours ago, everyone trying to get somewhere....and I am already here. Then, "Amazing Race", of course, and maybe "Bernie Mac", and whatever else, and dishes, and cleaning, and dusting tomorrow, maybe, or laundry, or writing, or reading, or music, loud, or anything I want, five days of anything I want. Only obligations to Norma and Gladys and whatever my body needs. This feels good, so far. Cost of the War in Iraq
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