4:35 a.m. - 2004-04-08
the crazypills is spilled all ova the floor
Sweet be-jeezus!
It is about 4:15 in the morning. I just came from work, where I actually finished about an hour ago. Admittedly, I dawdled. But I had good reason, I think. (Note to local readers: talk to ME before you unleash this badboy of a gossip nug on the world). I worked with the crush tonight, after having gone through some work to change my schedule so I wouldn't have to. Tonight, I wanted to. Earlier in the semester, my priority was to avoid involving myself emotionally at work. I worked with a girl whom I loved like crazy and she died. I work with a guy who I am crazy about but is probably crazy and I want him, of course, but I just feel like it would be an enormous fucking mess, with how I feel and how inevitable moving is. Christ. I worked way too fucking hard too many nights and it never seemed to be good enough. Ever.
So I have slipped into absence, into mediocrity. God knows what the crush thinks about me now, if he thinks about me at all.
I have commented upon this matter before, but this whole, probably-created-in-my-desperate-fucking-head connection is driving me wild, partially because I am so uncertain of its existence and partially because I want him. Lots.
I dunno. We might be hanging out this weekend. We might not. That cute, gay, washed-up Real World-er (from N'awlins) is speaking. Followed by Queer Prom, if rumors be true (bless me soul!). So, maybe he wants me around for the familiarity/comfort factor (he is a babe in the woods, in many a way) so the big gay wolves don't get him. Or maybe he's interested. I'm losing it.
And speaking of which, it is now 4:30 am, I am flagrantly high, I have a story due in about eight hours and though I am not planning on sleep (no, no!), I do have class at 9:40, which is slightly inconvenient, at best.
As luck would have it, I am just crazy enough right now to make these things happen. I should be back in time for a disco nap, from the afternoon to whenever the rock n'roll music starts playing, because that's where I'll be, my babies. This weekend, I will not: see the wreckage from the fire at my folks' house, do homework, go to bed early, think responsibly/practically, regret.
