Waiting for the Crumble

Okay. So maybe it was a slight overreaction. It is so hot out today, despite my dreams last night and I wonder if tonight is a good idea. Maybe I will throw all of this away and burn it so that I will never have to think about evidence.

And B was right-- such precision is unnatural and unnerving.

I'm on the subway and I have no thoughts on anything. My mind, from exhaustion, has gone, but my throat still really hurts and it's hard to swallow. (96th Street will be next.)

I just want to throw out all of these records and everything from the past. It has all started to fade anyway. Nothing has the strength of feeling that it used to and I wonder if the depression has gone forever, or if it is only momentarily dormant. (The sleeping serpent under the table at the Constitutional Convention).

Thank God that I didn't faint again today. I was sure, for a while, that I would, but I stuck it out.

I haven't spoken to Amac in a while. I wonder if that is good or bad or if I should even be trying to quantify it. Things have been too perfect though... Too good... And I will just sit here patiently and wait for them to crumble...

But in all seriousness, I know how he gets under pressure-- he sucks. And I have no one if it ever comes back. Nobody wants that job and I wonder what will happen to me without it. Oh well... I guess I shouldn't worry about it until the crack. I might as well have fun until then.

Okay. Almost there...