I had a meltdown earlier. I had it all spelled out here earlier too. Changed my mind about that last part. I'm getting a bit tired of spreading my grief out for all to see. I'm getting a bit tired of my own damned self. I will say this: each day feels a little harder to get through, a little more like hell.

I talked with Blythe after the wailing, which was good. This year, 2002-2003, is the year I save money. I'm saving money because in the summer of 2003 I am moving the hell away from here. Remember. I can do anything for a year. We both, also, decided we are NOT going on the camping trip because we are both broke. Ok. The short-term future is indeed bleak, but next summer, baby. I can live through this mess until then.

Thanks for saving me tonight, Blythe. Your timing was impeccably impeccable.

Time's a-wasting and I'm exhausted from all the emotional trauma I put myself through day in, day out. Shucks, man, I sure want some good news. Tell me I won the lottery. Tell me you pick me first for your team. Tell me you miss me. Ah hell. I must flee. Wish me luck and I'll think of you kindly and I'll wish you were here with me. Aw, never mind that. I'll wish you were here with me in any case.