Now the day is over
I woke up without complaining. I woke and showered and dressed and turned on the computer and checked the board. I kicked at my next door neighbor's door and we went to church. We came back from church (leaving before the eucharist - "They need to get their act together - services should not last more than an hour!") and went to brunch. We came back to my room and then went to the radio show. I felt sullen and melancholy, she read a romance novel out loud to cheer me up. We played a very cheerful song with a very upsetting reference about suicide ("That song can't be about suicide ... oh. It is.")
I came back to my room and thought about perhaps doing my paper, perhaps not. We lounged, we talked about how I want to be a better person (yawn). We gabbed. We went upstairs and I played a video game while they ate salsa and chips ("Can I just eat salsa with a spoon?" "NO!" "Why not?") I took the Lord's name in vain a few times ("It's okay, I figure he probably takes your name in vain - he stubs his toe and shouts 'For Margaret's sake!') and lost on purpose many times. I went downstairs and called Melissa. I went to dinner. I came back and sat in my room.
I stared at the computer. My drunken father called and inquired after my psychological health (What the fuck?). I fussed with my webpage. I wrote crappy stuff. I took a pillow and my bible into the backsmoker and nearly fell asleep reading Ephesians. I did not write my religion paper. I stared at a blank word doc for an hour and a half. I picked out a topic, complained about Paul some, complained about Paul some more, and checked the board. I checked the board like I was a twitching woman. I wrote a few sentences. I rolled around in the hall a little bit. I wrote this.
2002-11-25, Now the day is over
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