fredericks: (Daria)
The young woman two computers down from me is eating lunch. It appears to be shish kabob procured from the truck outside of school. It is very pungent. My nose and stomach are rebelling.

I crave something sweet right now. I would amble on down to the vending machines on the second floor of this building, but the thought of spending eighty-five cents on sixty-cent candy is less that appealing. Before my notetaking assignment begins I think I will walk the three blocks or so down to a reputable cafe/bakery and introduce myself to a confection of some sort.

I proctored an exam for a young woman I'd once worked with. She was hyper but fun, as usual. I ended up having to write for her because she asked me nicely, and she seemed to be having difficulties getting her thoughts straight (when she hinted to the fact that she had ADHD I was not surprised). Unfortunately I ended up doing too much, helping her instead of just scribing word-for-word. I realized what I was doing a couple of times and wanted to smack myself. I settled with occasionally spilling iced coffee water on myself, because I am a clumsy fool. She asked me to edit a paper for her tomorrow and I decided to do it, because I need money and because I love to edit. And she's nice, if chattier than a chipmunk.

Yesterday I got an unsolicited compliment on my writing. Not the writing here, of course, but at a RPG I frequent. It warmed the cockles of my cold cold heart, it did. I've been going so long feeling like I'm a damned idiot, it's nice to think I can manage something so that someone can lend me praise.

I have four books in my bag right now. I just finished Poppy Z. Brite's Lost Souls. I enjoyed it so much that, before turning the final page, I took the train up to the nearest B&N and picked up two more of Brite's books, Wormwood and Drawing Blood. They seem to be related, and I do hope to find out more about Ghost and Steve. The other book I'm toting, the one I was supposed to read after I finished Lost Souls, is Redwall. I'm ashamed to say I have yet to read it, since it's a classic and all. I've tried to get through it a couple of times in the past, I'm sure. It didn't click for me.

Last night I dreamt that I was diagnosed with stomach cancer. My uncle died of that. I remember the feelings of despair and impending doom that raced through my head when I was informed that I was dying. When I opened my eyes those feelings lingered for a while. My ultimate nightmare would seem to be a slow death.


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October 2013



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