how many times do i have to run around the lake before the thought leaves my head? am i chasing it, or is it chasing me? how many coffees are enough to shake the reminiscences and dreams from a sleep that i feel is everlasting? i mean jesus christ, this week has, if anything, passed the last grain of salt from my body, maybe even more than last week and the week before that. i wonder if the reason behind it never ending, is that i never end it. i have to give up the scenic drives and just become part of the scene. i feel like a 30-year old woman trapped in a 20-year old's body. and imagine what running twice around the lake four times a week does for this flesh machine?

the one day i wake up ten minutes earlier to help manage time during my own morning' rush-hour' and to iron my brand new white button-up, mother earth (bless her soul) becomes emotionally unstable. i still had my kitten heels to make up for it, but you know when they say that your moods match the weather? i'm typically the opposite, often times feeling "cheery" after a violent storm. when i feel like sobbing, faster kill, pussycat. i'm remedied and consoled to sleep. i woke up this morning and really felt like turning over onto my other shoulder and closing my eyes for the last six hours of morning. but no, i sat alternating my left leg over and under my right in a windowless lecture room reading The Grapes of Wrath over my Behind the Message textbook. at this point, i'm not sure which is better.

i had two phone interviews this morning, which made me eager yet not to get into work. i hate that all the ladies who sit around me, who ignore me, and who can literally hear me working, hide their over-made faces making me more aware of the fact that they're listening, i mean judging. it really makes me thankful for being able to experience firsthand the true joys of being an intern. and i wish Susan would take down the dreadful flower pinwheel she has tacked on the cubicle wall we share. it makes me feel like i work at Little Publication on the Prairie. earlier, i found i had scribbled 'twiddle-dee, twiddle-dum' on one of my legal pads between notes. now i feel like i'm getting somewhere....

this week's work is earning me a weekend's reward of a home visit. i just want to get out of this mess and madness that seems either deadtone or drama-full. having one good day out of ten is not a good statistic to make permanent. i can tell you one thing that is for sure: once August 17 comes around, i'm yanking up my skirt, dropping my top's 'V' a couple of inches and partying like i fucking own the place, whichever place it may be, even if it's my bedroom... which may or may not be totally appropriate. i've been so, so patient.