Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Weak Welcome

I could explain but it sounds like self-pity I guess.
In fact, ignore it. Come to think of it you probably won’t get it.
Maybe I just don't want you to.

Something happened on Sunday. It was move-in day for the dorms.
For me it was just another 7 hour work day at Job #2 after a mostly sleepless night.
A touch of the old insomnia. Like what’s keeping me up now.

Monday saw my routine at Job #1 grossly disturbed. A dollar bill, two quarters, and two dimes in my pocket, slouching to and from my convenience store, enjoying the outside, thinking about my work tasks for the day. The horror, the indignation, the violation. Trespassers all on my quiet summer campus.
How. Dare. You.

This is my dream and you’re not invited.
Those are my ghosts and you’re in their way.
That’s Blake’s where I almost fell asleep, bored and jet lagged sipping off someone’s coke, upsetting my boyfriend. Oh too precocious relationship. If I had it all to do again.

And I’m fading to gray.

One unshirked adult responsibility at a time.
The secret is not to think.
About what you should have done.
About being alone.
Go to work
Keep working, do all your chores and it’s bedtime.




(this is a stub)

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