It is gray in my world. The sky. This mindless fucking automaton job. Computers. Internet. Job searches. Paper and books and routine and commuting and the routine! My god. Let me out!

Oh yes. I have known the inexorable sadness of pencils. I am totally one of the duplicate grey standard faces.

So yeah. I went to Wilmington this weekend to see me old pal Blythe and we drank and we watched tv and we walked around in the pretty weather and I am horrible at visiting because I get so homesick, which I did, and which has yet to rub off, the sadness of missing home, the sadness of being out of place, out of phase, and most decidedly, not myself.

I am used to coming home after such outings and feeling sad and feeling relieved to be home and feeling lame for being so stupidly, so ridiculously, agoraphobic. I am unused to coming home to revivification. God bless Jeff. I know. I say that a lot. Ain't going to stop. The world out there is a black hole that sucks all the me out into it and I get sad because I need those me bits and before Jeff I�d cave up and slowly regenerate myself but now, this time, I just left parts of myself at home in the company of one good friend and when I returned he gave myself back to me, except I was stronger, more flinty and more durable after days in his company. He is my own personal grow light. I�m the weed and he�s the sun and the rain.

I took Peaches on this journey and she was brilliant. She acted like she was all trained and shit, which she ain�t. Not a whit. But she�s sweet and calm and happy, which is much much better than trained. Not to mention crazy cute. I have figured out that she is a Maltese poodle. That�s what kind of mutt she is. I don�t much care except I like to know things.

In three weeks we will be set upon by my college mates. I am perversely looking forward to this, even though I know I�m just going to wish it all over and done with as soon as they arrive. I keep having dreams of sfitz. Last night he was a pretend vampire (this is because Blythe and I were looking at old pictures and there�s the classic of sftiz dressed, oh, like a vampire-ish creature about to go to the homecoming dance. He made himself a cape and wore a top hat and sunglasses and sweatpants and a purple shirt. Is this not very strange? Why did he do that?) and I said, in the dream, he�s not a vampire! Look at his toes! (he has terribly ugly but most definitely human toes, I guess) At which point he crumpled up into a giggling crumply sfitz. It was funny.

Jeff said, about his sleeping, I was all tossy and turny. I love that he said that. Quite Buffy of him. Also, after I finished a sentence for him last night, he said, thank you! It would have taken me a very long time to finish that sentence! And then he fell into fits of Jeff giggles. He was a bit hysterically sleepy. Totally cute.

Oh lord. Just, lets get a move on here with spring and with all the spring-like activities.

Sorry. I can�t write coherent entries anymore. Gah, I can barely write this mess. Let�s just call it a day, shall we? Maybe it�ll get better. Maybe I�m just in a rut. Or something.

The end. The end!