I’d like to say thank you to all the people that asked if I was okay. (All *cough* two of you. Heh.) Yes, I’m okay. And yes, I’m sure. Thank you for checking up on me. It’s hard, but not impossible for me to deal with. All I need is time. I’ll be better in time. And I’m more unhappy than angry. Hardly angry at all now. Mainly sad. Pauvre, pauvre moi! You may pity me. I am putting ze back of mah hand to mah forehead ah ahm zo zad. . . But mainly confused. *sigh* And I need to talk to someone, but they’re not home.

Another day, another entry. I think I have a plot (more of an idea) for a short story. I don’t know exactly where I’ll put it yet. I don’t know exactly how it’ll turn out. I don’t know where it’s going to go because I just have bits and pieces of it everywhere. It has a lot to do with the way that I write.

It’s strange when I write. Everything just pours out of me in the way that viscera and other fluids sluice through the grates on a slaughterhouse floor. A lot of thoughts come and go so quickly, that it’s hard for me to catch them all. It’s not pretty by any means, and I’ve lost many a good thought on the way to work, just walking two blocks. I always believe that I’m going to write it down in my beloved work journal, but I never do. But the work journal is being used.

I’m beginning to loath the late shift at work. I’m becoming distant. I’m losing a pant size due to not eating, I think. I have to get transferred back to the early shift. This is seriously cramping my style.

In other news, I found out that Big Trouble in Little China and The Goonies have been released on DVD. Oh yeah. I can feel “impulse buy” approaching. Maybe have a blast from our childhood movie night. Which I haven’t had for quite a while. Then again, these movies may have been slightly embellished due to the fact that I did watch them when I was very young.

I mean, it’s Kurt Russell. And Cyndi Lauper. And I was really, really young.

It’s also good to know that I’m not the only one of my friends baring themselves on the net. (No, not pr0n.) Here’s a journal from a good friend of mine. Maybe our journals will cross paths one day. I look to him for inspiration and beauty, and that’s when I’m sneaking glances at his lovely wife.