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(fragments from the wee hours)

And in the end,
the house is empty
and I'm left reconstructing your gaze
from disparate fragments of memory
with echoes of your touch
reverberating along the taut strings of my body.

It is this pulse --
you felt it, didn't you,
when you touched me? --
this screw driven too tight,
nameless need for release
that manifests
beneath your stolen caress.

what I hate about the morning after: trying to figure out what the words meant

Sometimes I feel as though the internet is actually part of the Twilight Zone, where at any moment things can turn into something you never expected.

Like at home, it's fine, the sky is blue, the day is quiet, people are mowing their lawns and such. But on the internet, by God, the world is falling apart like some low-budget apocalypse movie, the kind with zombies and interdimensional portals made of cardboard.

Okay, a note: I've got a fever/flu combo duking it out in me and I'm feeling kinda sputtery-spazzy, so pardon if this log is sputtery-spazzy, too.

1st up: School's out for the summer! Or rather, two weeks into the summer until my statistics course starts off. See, unlike some of the staggeringly intelligent mathematicians we have wandering around the site, I an not fond of numbers. Numbers and I never clicked. Actually, no. That's not true. We were cool until that bitch Fractions came between us in the fourth grade and we haven't been on good terms since. Occasionally numbers will give me a pity-fuck and let me figure some things out (as I recall, Geometry was pretty easy, as were most Algebraic equations involving graphs), but for the most part, we don't associate. As such, I'm taking only the one class this summer so I can devote all my attention to passing. Which leads into:

School. Oh, school.

I finally got an email back from the girl who went to that fancy school. She told me the basics: what it's like, what the campus is like, what the teachers are like, etc. Gave me some helpful links, and said she'd be happy to answer anymore questions.

And. . . I kinda want to go.

I hate having to admit it, but I do. And the fact that I've admitted to wanting it ensures I won't get in. Every time I acknowledge that I want something, the universe takes it as a personal dare to ensure that it doesn't happen. I have a life long track record supporting this theory, which has resulted in me, as a whole, not wanting much out of life in general. So now that I acknowledge wanting the school, it is a certainty that I wont get it.

So I can go ahead and apply anyways with no pressure.

See, the recommended GPA for scholarships is 3.5. I am at a measly 3.3. I know that out of my last five classes, I got probably three Bs, one A, and maybe one C. (Damn you, ASL! I love you so much, but I suck at you!) Though to be fair, the C is what I got for my test average (I did the math). I got a B on the Video Project, a B on the papers, and a B on the 50 signs, so depending on what I got on the final and how he's adding them up, I may get a B. Problem is that all those Bs will actually bring my GPA down a little bit.


But it's okay. Because I'm not getting in. And now because I'm not getting in, I can apply anyways for shits and giggles. Now it's not me leaping across the gorge flailing and praying to reach the other side, this is me carelessly flicking rocks into the abyss. So long as I know I won't get in, I can apply without worrying about how I'd have to live on campus in a different city, away from home for the first time, or how I'll have to pay exorbitant fees, or commute to my job, or miss my BFF.

Because I won't get in.

2nd. Still school, just another aspect.
I feel kinda guilty about my classes this next semester (not summer, the one after). I'm only taking four classes, and two are PE. They're all things required for me to transfer, but all total it's only eight credits (because PE only counts as one). I'm not a full time student anymore. I feel so. . . useless. I made sure to get them all morning-ish because next semester Tom's mom is hiring me on every Tuesday after school so she can run errands.

Actually, that's another thing. Tom's not going to school anymore. The people in disabled students center are being so unhelpful, and making Tom and his family jump through so many hoops that Torri's had enough of it. Tom's gonna stay at home.

3rd. My job.

I love my job. I love, love, love, love my job. It's just a part time job, and it's just at a coffee shop, but I love it so much, it's ridiculous. I work every Sunday (after volunteering in the mornings in the kids ministries next door) and every two Wednesdays.

Last Wednesday was my shift. I got all happy and got ready and got a ride down there. I go up into the shop proper and see my coworker there, and knock and wait for her to unlock the door.

Coworker *lets me in*: Zeph?
Zeph: *goes to get apron* Hi.
Coworker: Today's Other Coworker's day.
Zeph: My schedule said it was my day. . .
Coworker: Other Coworker's already here, she's just getting her food, then she's coming in.
Zeph: *goes to check the schedule posted on the fridge* Did BossName change the schedules again? (Our boss is really bad about that. She switches them up and doesn't tell us, or tells individuals the change without telling anyone else).
Coworker: No, I don't think so.
Zeph: *sees her name is still scheduled*
Coworker: *looking kind of defensive* Other Coworker is already here. She got here the same time as me.
Zeph: Okaaay. . . Uh. I'll go. . . catch my ride before she leaves the parking lot, then. . . Uhm. Bye.

Cue me running outside and whipping out my cell to call my ride back, passing Other Coworker munching her lunch/dinner as I do. She waved and I waved back, but the whole time I was wondering if she'd just stolen my hours.

Obviously it was a mistake. Coworker and Other Coworker have worked the Wednesday shift together for the past couple Wednesdays in a row, obviously Other Coworker made a mistake and thought that night was her shift, too. I spent the entire rest of the day terrified that they'd call me to go back, then the next day terrified that my boss would call me wondering why I skivved off work and let poor Other Coworker fill in for me. Now tomorrow's Sunday and I'm afraid I'll get into trouble. I'm not sure for what, but I'm still afraid. This is not a good feeling.

4th. My BFF got a new puppy. It's part fancy-Chihuahua-whose-breed-I-can't-spell, part Dachshund and part cotton ball. His name's Charlie, and he likes to bite things with his little, razor-sharp teeth.

BFF's parents are out of town until Tuesday, and it turns out that BFF hasn't seen a whole lot of older animated movies (Hunchback of Notre Dame, The Great Mouse Detective, and The Secret of NIMH being among them), so of course I went over today to help rectify this. After work tomorrow, I'm going over again, this time for an extended sleep over. I intend to introduce her to Young Frankenstein, the first season of Fringe, and a few riff-worthy movies like We're Back and Quest for Camelot. Wooo!

And that's pretty much all the big things going on at the moment.

EDITED: Sunday, may 29, 4:45

Just got back from a surprisingly long shift and, yay! I'm not in trouble! My boss had been watching the security cameras and saw what happened. I was right, Other Coworker had simply forgotten it was my turn. She felt really bad about it. We're switching off, so next Week I get two Wednesdays in a row. Also, completely coincidental, by my boss is having me work every other Wednesday rather than every other-other Wednesday. So yay! Not in trouble!

Coworker One didn't mention anything. I'm guessing Boss might have chewed her out (Coworker One gets chewed out by my boss a lot, usually for attitude. She's one of those people who, if you don't know her, seems like she's aloof or maybe even a little rude. She's not, really. She's nice. It took me three months of working there, absolutely terrified of her before I figured out she was nice. But I guess customers have complained before, so my boss always has an eye on her and likes to chew her out.)

In an hour or so I'll be going back to BFF's place for the extended sleepover/movie-watching fest. I repeat: yay!

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