I am a yawn machine. I stretch and yawn and still I cannot. wake. up. Rowr. Sigh. I had trouble sleeping again last night. I blame Scott, who�s back in town (yay! welcome back, buddy). He called me up in the middle of the night as he is wont to do because he is a vampire--I've been collecting evidence to verify this little theory of mine and I'm pretty sure I've never laid eyes on him outside before dusk and I have noticed an unholy aversion to BtVS (really, proof enough) as well as to being staked in the heart. I did not answer the phone. That's because I didn�t realize that the phone ringing had awakened me until after he�d hung up. I thought I was having the dream of the phone ringing. By the time I'd realized my mistake, I was wide-eyed awake. I ate a cold black plum and drank a small glass of white wine and read my English mystery and browsed the dozens of literary journals Bathsheba bestowed upon me and walked around my darkened house and looked out into the dark night and lay on the floor with my sleepy mutt and let myself not sleep and let myself not worry about not sleeping. The world was so gentle and so dark and the animals warm and sleepy. I ache now, however, for a cool bed on this hot sleepy morning. I would settle for floating on the lake. I wish I had today off. I wish I didn't have to work for the next week, in fact. Of course, most do.

Oh man. Tia, Tia, Tia. Talking about god cursing her and such rubbish that I can barely listen to. Blech. This is why religion is stupid.

My folks called last night�my mom to tell me she is flying in for a visit the first week in September (good-o) and my dad to detail, minutely, his successful quest to express mail my wallet to me. Man alive, my dad can talk my bleeding ears off about nothing.

Tia just told me that she thinks she�ll be journeying to Middle Earth when she dies. Now she�s in tears. Rhapsodizing about the good creator and death and such. And walking and talking with the animals. Dear me. I have the phoniest smile plastered on my face right now. This ain�t going to work.

Phew. Escape. Headphones engaged. Body language set to unapproachable.