outer-jessie's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- butter Do you suppose that the craving I've been having for butter for the past several days has to do with a profound physical need that I've been denying myself? That this is my body's way of telling me that I need to eat a saturated-fat-saturated entree when I get home tonight, lest I begin to wither away and shed skin cells and eyelashes at an alarming rate? I think so too. I hate what I'm about to confess. I hate it because I resent that I have to devote yet another hour and a half of my week to yet another component of yet another class that I'll never make any sense of. But I must say it, or perish in the attempt. Thank Buddha for sections. Sections are, for the uninformed, the meetings of a small portion of a large class, with an instructor other than the professor. You discuss your questions, your homework, your deep-seated fears about your future in physics. You work together and struggle through some problems. You may even learn the names of your sectionmates. You may even fall in love with the section leader. Ah me, it is time well spent. It is wonderful to be in love with such a bonny lad as my Rob. It's wonderful for him to be in love with bonny me. Nothing's perfect, of course, but sometimes, they feel that way. We are lucky, lucky people. We will try very, very hard, we say, to keep us together. I don't mean to rub it in...but damn, we are lucky, lucky people. I need a foil. No, not a tinfoil hat, smartass. I need someone to play off of, someone to play off me. Rob and I are not foils of each other because under normal circumstances, we're blind to each other. To each other's theatrical characters, at least. We're too close to the show. I need two friends, one to interact with, the other to observe. And we'd all take turns flawlessly, until another audience was presented. Then we'd perform together. Stop looking at me like that -- this all makes sense to me. This is how it seems, to me. Fluid, open-ended, exquisite theater. Of course, it's worthless if all the drama is in your head. Egads, I want butter. I want rich and buttery fettuccine alfredo. Goddamn. Can't leave here till 8. Oh god, I'm going to hate myself if I eat the alfredo all by myself *and* put butter in it. But that's what I'm going to do. Oh yes. I can't not. The butter...the butter...I must consume... Ah, this reminds me. I must bounce tonight. There are many things I must do tonight. Oh yeah. I need to do my homework tonight. Ah, a slacker's work is never done. What? Have I said that before? It's not clever anymore. I should stop saying it. 4:15 p.m. - 2002-02-12 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||