Urg! There is sand in my sandal. It's been there for a while now.  It was so annoying that I had to take my shoes off while I was driving   home from my horrendously long art class today. I had to wait for   half an hour for that stupid bus. It was at least 6:45 by the time I   reached my stop. You'd think that rush hour would be over by then. It   wasn't. I sat in traffic from Enfield all the way out past the Y at 290.  That is just insane. I was stuck behind a maroon jeep cherokee with   a Gore/Liberman bumpersticker on it for most of the way. But that   guy exited when I got to the 290/Mopac split. Then I was confused as   a white Rav 4 started diving through lanes into spaces too absurd to   drive in. It was quite odd and annoying all at the same time. Then I   was almost cut off by a stupid woman in a red mini-van and her   punk looking son. I'll just say this: I was ready for this day to end at   about 2:00 this afternoon.  Now it's getting cold in here. My dad's office is always cold. Of   course, his computer is always on. It's a giant that's hardly ever   used. Shame really. So my feet are starting to get quite chilly. More   of the usual discomfort.   The smell in here is rather interesting. It smells like candy. Cherry   candy to be precise. For a moment I thought my boyfriend might be   eating some of the lollypops my dad always has on his desk. He   wasn't though. Odd. It's really not that usual for an automotive shop   office to be smelling like candy.  There are too many boxes at my feet. It's hard to get comfortable with   all of them at my feet. I keep mentioning my feet. Why is that? They're   uncomfortable, that could be one reason. I feel bad because I have been sort of brusque with my boyfriend.  Here he is, come all the way from across town just to see me and I   can't even spare him five minutes before I launch into my homework.  I think I'll give him a hug now. Just a minute. I think he appreciated   that. It was a necessary break in my stream of consciousness. He   gives so much of his time to me, the least I can do is give him some   back in return. Sometimes I wonder why he is so loyal. I tend to rush past him   when I'm doing something or I overlook him when he wants my   attention. He really dosen't deserve that. He's such a nice person. I   always tell him that I'm a mean person and that he would be better   off with someone prettier and nicer. He just smiles and hugs me   and tells me there is no one better. I have my doubts, but I really   don't think I'd give him up if someone better were to come along. I'd   fight to the death to keep him. That's how much I love him. I'm a very jealous person. I'm stingy with my boyfriend and I'm stingy   with my friends. I don't like anyone being around him (mostly   females) if I'm not there too. I know I shouldn't be so difficult, but it's   not really something I have any conscious control over. I don't like   my sister being around my friends either. I hate sharing friends with   her. She's younger than I am and she has her own friends to hang   out with. I don't bother her friends, why should she bother mine?  I'm beginning to wonder if my boyfriend brought his laundry over for   me to wash it. I've been needing to do laundry for a while now.  There's charcoal stains all over my shorts, and I've run out of spiffy t-  shirts to wear, so it's off to the wash. I don't know whether or not I'll   have time to do it all tomorrow as I had hoped. I also need to pay a   visit to my old high school tomorrow. I've promised my friend Katy I   would visit. There's really only three teachers I want to see: Mr. Meitz   (physics), Mrs. Hebert (English, Creative Writing), and Mr. Dennis   (Newspaper). The trinity of great teachers. And with all great figures   there has to be a   devil  . Mine is Mr. Austin, my art teacher for three   years. I looked up to him as a mentor and he turned his back on me   at the end of my senior year. I was crushed. Still I wonder if my   boyfriend brought his laundry over.  He's really not the most hygenic person in the whole world. I've had   friends tell me that he's lucky to have me because he's too   disgusting to date other women. I don't have a problem with him.  Sure he tends to go three or four days between showering, three or   four weeks between laundry cleanings, and three of four months   between room organizing, but I love him anyways. And besides, I've   been know to go a day or two or three between showers. All this   talking about him makes me want to hug him again. I think I will.  Once again, just a moment. okay, I'm done.  I keep hearing the sound of a little red desiel Isuzu outside. There   are no windows in here, so I really can't see. Very strange indeed. My hands are starting to cramp. My wrists are aching and my   fingertips are numb. It's a leathal combination of the extremely   powerful air conditioner and all this typing. My hands are starting to   look cold too. When my hands are cold they get a little paler. Even a   little yellow. Did I mention that my neck hurts too? It does. My butt is   doing nicely, though. Must be this comfy chair. My dad bought it at   the Bombay Company  for his birthday. It's really nice.  Sometimes I wonder if I have a brain tumor. There are times when I   forget simple things, or I get simple things confused. I really hope I   don't have one. I'm planning to spend the rest of my life with my   boyfriend. I suppose I should really call him my fiancee. Yes, that   works. We're going to be married on February 5, 2006. It's going to   be marvelous. We're going to have platinum puzzle rings made for   our wedding bands. Why puzzle rings? Because we exchanged our   own special puzzle rings as marks of our engagements. I don't   know if I would call it official or not. We haven't formally announced it   to our parents. Mine already know I'm not leaving him. I half think my   mother wishes I would. My dad likes him, though. That's always a   good sign. There is a gigantic printer seated on the desk beside me. It's a   monstrous beast of a machine. It's actually a printer, fax, copier,   scanner all in one. Great piece of machinery, really.  I don't want to do the dishes that are waiting down at the house. I   had a long day filled with the joys of muenstral cramps, and I'm   really not up to the task. I hope someone does them before I finish   all this. I have five younger sisters, three of which are at the   dishwashing age. You'd think one of them would do them. Still, I   have an ominous feeling that I will be burdened with the chore as I   am burdened with so many other things. Sometimes I can't stand   my family. Fortunately, my step-mother is no longer part of that life. I should   really be calling her what she now is: my father's ex-wife. That fits so   much better. I'm just glad she's gone. Life would be much more   hectic with her still here. She's a bi-polar wrech who refuses to take   her pills. Did I mention that she cheated on my father when they   were married? One more reason for me to despise her. I despise   any person who cheats on their spouse or partner or whatever you   want to call the person you are in some way or another bonded to. It   may not be a happy bond, but theres nothing that excuses cheating   in my eyes. I will never cheat on my fiancee and I hope to God that   he never cheats on me. I would be crushed. I've been watching that timer like a hawk since I started. I'm so tired   of typing that it hurts. Literally. But with a minute and a half left, I must   press on. Ha! It's a pun and I didn't even realize it! I'm so clever.  Some would argue that point, but I still think I have my shining   moments. Everybody needs their shining moments. Without shining   moments, we're just dull. Afterall, what's the opposite of shiny? Dull.  I never want to be dull. I'm certain that people already find me dull,   but as long as I don't know about it, it's all good. I just hope they   never say it to my face. That would make me either sad or mad. I   guess it depends on the weather that day. But people who know me   don't think I'm dull. At least I hope not. I just don't like waiting all   afternoon for a bus that takes thirty minutes to run. And you can   quote me on that one. So there. Yep.