Waiting for VJ

I've been lugging this thing around for ages without the urge to write. But now, sitting in Starbucks with a toasty Vanilla Latte and waiting for VJ, I need to ward off sleep.

I feel too exposed sitting here. My fingers are heavy and there are no corners. To make things worse, the kitschy zodiac chess-board table is making me dizzy. And my fucking ankle hurts.

VJ and I are supposed to go to bartending class which starts today. And I am supposed to be reading about the American Federalists (among other things) (But God, my fucking ankle hurts!)

Physical Therapy plus going to the gym today has more than drained me. I feel like if someone spoke to me right now, I would more than love to respond in an overly cranky manner.

I think I wrote in this Starbucks on a different day too-- the one on 102nd and Broadway.

I still feel weird about what happened on Saturday night and how to act if I bump into Druggie or his brother. I hope they're not dangerous or anything weird like that... Today I had some terrible imagining of being raped on the roof.

Why am I so fucking crazy?

And my Michelle Dessler/ Todd Manning dream... How can I miss a character so much when he's just a fictional character? What is going on with me?

Maybe I need to retire with Wuthering Heights. I'm up to the part when Catherine tells Nelly that she'll marry Linton and Heathcliff overhears and storms away from the estate...

Until later...