:: Searching for Puck... ::

:: Tuesday, March 01, 2005 ::

Hi again!

Things seem to have mostly cleared up, health wise. I think I may be moving jobs sooner or later, though. Whether it's that things are too hectic and disorganized there, or that whatever is wrong with my brain is keeping me from focusing, or that I just can't do this, I don't know. Working here has bred a new level and type of stress in me - it's a manic and hurried panic type of feeling, almost constantly. I feel high-strung, like something is tight and high inside my chest. Don't like it. $8.25 an hour isn't worth this, I believe.

Joey cleaned up the computer room yesterday, I did some laundry. I'm going to tidy up our room a bit more today, I think. At least organize our bedroom stuff...it's all crammed willy-nilly in the bedroom drawers. I haven't been very motivated lately. I want to go to Sue (new-age store owner friend of mine) and have her sage-smoke me to clear out my aura, but I heard she's selling the store - enough things have come and gone in my life, I don't think coming face-to-face with yet another is going to help my presence of mind. Toni-Ann (other new-age store owner friend) could do it, but...I dunno. She's not the type to, I suppose. Doesn't strike me right for something of that ilk. Still going to try and make the Spring Solstice circle, though.

I've been thinking more and more about the apartment Joey and I will hopefully get. I know I shouldn't put all my eggs in one basket, I know that by now, but logic doesn't apply to dreams very well. I hope and pray and dream for something, and the entire time my inner monologue is telling me how completely unrealistic it is and unobtainable for at least another two years.....and then Joey's dad does that retarded sneeze-sound thing 5 times in a minute, my blood pressure spikes and I want to commit violence, and I think about the fictional apartment again in a vague hope of keeping my sanity and hands free of blood.

Oh, good. Joey's dad is in the kitchen talking to his mother for the millionth time since 9, on speaker phone, on his cell phone. Tinny screeching voices. That'll be great for the headache I'm working on. ::thinks of the future color of the fictional living room couch:::

~Fox
:: Fox 3/01/2005 03:19:00 PM [Say what?] ::
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