outer-jessie's Diaryland Diary

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flux = flow = water = stream = this entry

I'm just upset. It has nothing to do with anything. It's just emotion overload. There are too many feelings in the world, and when I try to feel them all, I get...upset.

I'm going to add fifty buddies to my list. Every morning I'll come in to work and have to read 75 updates so I won't miss a thing.

If *this* is chaos...then I understand chaos.

Stream of consciousness looks like chaos to those to whom the consciousness does not belong. I will someday write a stream of consciousness entry so you can see what chaos looks like, and then I'll show you how it all connects and you'll know what I mean.

But then again, this isn't chaos, so there you have it.

That strikes me as incredibly hilarious. Not so much that I'm laughing out loud or anything. But laughing out loud is just for show anyway.

Ah, you know what I will do tonight? Play my old mp3s, with all the fabulous singing and unexpected chords and instruments. I hope it doesn't make me cry, because lots of things do, and I never know if I like that about me, or hate it.

Would you like a splash of reality? Ok. I heard back from the astrocamp people, and things look vague. They sounded impressed with what is a close approximation to me, but I'm not sure if I can be hired for the time frame I want. I was going to give them a call this afternoon, but I've farted away all my time doing other stupid crap, and now I'm going home. And I don't want to call them from home.

For those who were concerned, Rob and I are back to super. Super DUPER, if you must know, and you must. I wish the happiness and silliness lent itself to words as well as the anger and hurt does, but that's just not the case. You're going to have to take my word for it for now -- although, now that I think about it and almost fry my brains doing so, all you can ever do is take my word for stuff, so it won't be a huge change for you.

Today was a gorgeous day, and I ate basketball shaped Cheezits, and I laughed about it a lot. On the inside. What with laughing out loud just being for show, and all.

Kids remember everything. They remember every injustice committed against them, imagined or not. That aspect of teacherhood scares me quite a bit.

My father told me I run like a girl, ten or so years ago. He meant that to be an insult.

For example's sake. And because I was thinking about it earlier.

I'm going to go home and make muffins and appled tuna. Not at the same time, mind you.

5:42 p.m. - 2002-04-09

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