It's early in the morning when I wake. The sun has yet to rise. In the eastern skies the sky has begun to pink, but the stars still loom in the west. I hurry through a shower and rush to dress before charging out the door and ripping out of the driveway. I don't even give Donatello time to properly start up. Sorry, babe!
Work is slow. I just have nothing to do. I spend most of the morning watching the stars fade while the sun rises. Oh, and eating – my boss gave me both cheesecake and white chocolate mousse to snack on. I tell you, he wants to eat me! He's trying to fatten me up ten pounds so that he can bake me in a gingerbread body. I bet that's why there's such high turnover in my job – he eats the girls who work for him! Well, so long as I maintain my stick figure I imagine he'll leave me be.
Every day's the same. I feel them merge. I try to separate - resist the urge. But they tell me I'll be fine, that it will all get better - just try to write it down or put it in a letter. But the words won't play and there's no easy way to say goodbye. Goodbye.
Today felt like a Wednesday. It was weird. Once I was at school I just wanted to leave. But I ended up staying and staying because the Boyfriend needed a pillow. I probably shouldn't have talked him out of going to class, but he looked like he was five minutes from keeling over and croaking. (Granted, he looks that way 90% of the time.) So the afternoon was spent listening to people chatter on and on forever about anime (specifically Love Hina) and who cares what else. I tuned out after about fifteen minutes. The people in the anime club are nice, but vastly dull in conversation, because it seems like several of their brains revolve solely around animated figures on television screens. Fifteen minutes to half-an-hour I can stand, no problem, but multiple hours on end becomes quite painful.
My concept of time has been really off, lately. I think hours have passed and barely a minute goes by. And sometimes, I'll blink and everything's shot past me. But it isn't consistent. A dull class one morning will creep by; the next it'll fly like an eagle even though I'm still equally wearied by the content. When I'm driving, I'll suddenly move from A to B and not even realize. I can't tell if I'm spacing out or what. It's a little disturbing.
I hear I'm understanding and nice. I wonder who let that little rumor out. I've thought about it, and I really am not. I just don't care enough about people to give a damn one way or the other about their problems. If that's interpreted as kindness by the masses, then all the power in the world to those poor souls