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- It's June, July is next month. I'm going crazy, I hate my clothes and why the hell didn't I put my black Dickies pants in the front of my storage unit so that I could get them out? I want them, why did I think I wouldn't want them? I need some new clothes and I hate shopping, I went to lunch at the Nordstrom cafe with some peeps on Friday and nearly started hyperventilating on the escalators trying to get to the stupid place - the people, the capitalism (I was accused of being a communist and I must admit that yes I am, and I hate freedom, too), and just all the stupid stupid image crap stuff that goes along with that. Ack. I could go shopping online I suppose but ack. Suddenly in Seattle, in addition to all the crazies that have suddenly come back from wherever they were to ride on the buses all day, there are all these girls with straight blonde hair and big sunglasses and tiny skirts and lip gloss. Blah. Ack. I'm going to the symphony this afternoon, is the plan. Beethoven's Seventh. And it'll make me cry, Beethoven does that, etc. Going away party last night for my first friend in Seattle and as I was leaving (and I am a weenie and left rather early) I was saying goodbye and it was like, shit, this is goodbye, maybe forever, because she's going away to a different continent and when she gets back here I won't be here, etc. It's 12:20, I'm sitting at my desk at work staring at my computer screen, and suddenly she appears out of nowhere and starts dancing in front of my desk. Why? I have no idea, but it's funny and I laugh. Who does that? She does, and now she's going away. So I'm sad, and I'm going crazy about the lack of my stuff, and other things. Now for a change of pace: it's summer. Remember summers in my hometown? Remember summer? Hey, I could quit my job and move and have a summer and go swimming. Hey, I could keep my job but take time off here and there to travel, go see grandmas, go home for a week, go camping. I don't have to be trapped by things. We build our own prisons, remember? Oh my god, look for apartments, I should do that, take a week off, oh my god. I'm going to call my sister. p.s. I apologized to guess who for being the way I've been being, I told him I'm not dealing well with this right now. With what? he says. With this, I say, pointing backing and forth, him and me. You don't like me, he says. Do you think that? I say. Yes, you really don't like me, he says. No, I say, just the opposite. Then some attorney comes and sits down by us and starts talking and that's the end of the conversation.
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