March 13, 1999.
I write this, knowing that as soon as I get halfway through the next sentence, they will knock on the door and take me away. Not anything as dramatic as political dissent and the secret police, just an outing to a pub and Murphy's Law quod ergo demonstratum.
2 hours later
A rather cryptic paragraph, but it served its' purpose. I was in the middle of Boswell's Life of Johnson when Dirk called, inviting me out to a pub with himself and Tymothi:J. Trying to outrace the ride, I bolted down a bowl of Shreddies and wheat germ (lots of iron, yo) and got dressed. No car. So I did the petty magic that one does when one wishes to precipitate an overdue pick-up...i.e. starting an absorbing task that would suffer from an interruption. No sooner did I type a period on the first paragraph, but the door buzzed. To steal a slogan from many a pink sweatshirt, damn I'm good.
Last night was the second episode in what I fear is becoming serial behavior. I invite you to cast your mind back to last weekend's roommate episode of all night partying. Now return to last night...at 2 a.m. I made ready for bed, Southpark being consumed and all as well as could be. The Roommate was not home, however I didn't give a flying Dutchman. Snuggled in, waiting for the first good sleep since Wednesday's overdose - cut to 5:30 a.m., when she loudly stumbles in, turning on the teevee and beginning a conversation. Again, I followed the path of least resistance (put in earplugs and waited in vain for my irritation to be quelled). But when a CD started loudly, I lost my ability to accept. Another pj-clad admonition (me). Another surly silence (her).
Fortunately, I was able to sleep a little after that. When she awoke around 3 p.m., she apologized before I could open a discussion, thus reconciling me to her somewhat. By way of explanation, she offered that they were "really fucked up." Plus, she did the dishes while I was gone...a somewhat reduced task, since the Boy had done about 75% of them on Thursday, but still the thought was there.
It's 2 in the morning now. She's already had a guest over this evening, but they seem to be gone. Should I even bother to go to sleep before they stumble in? Do I have a choice here? Apologies don't mean squat if it keeps on happening.
Scott has very sweetly offered a place to crash during the upcoming exam season...an offer of unrivalled generosity, in that no one in their right mind would volunteer to lodge a girl in the midst of crunch time/snake season. Perhaps if I have that refuge during a few critical nights, it'll keep me from snapping in a sleep-dep-induced episode. One can only hope.
Despite this inauspicious beginning, topped with a rampant case of boredom in the morning, I managed to have a very nice afternoon. I worked out my biceps carrying Javina's last box to the post office, with the dubious result that I had a slight tremor in both arms for an hour afterwards...subsequent to this, the caffeine jitters took over. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
After a celebratory sandwich (for me it's an occasion, ok?), I walked the 7 or 8 blocks to Tequilla Bookworm, there to meet an email acquaintance who introduced himself some months ago by sending me articles about Samuel Taylor Coleridge. We had a lovely afternoon, chatting with greater ease than I've ever found before in first RL meetings. His friend was also very cool...I've never met anyone who works in a sex shop before, and she works in one of the really cool femme ones. That's not the extent of her charms of course; that's just the first easily summarized thing that comes to mind. For his part, he supplied me with many pithy little anecdotes, which I found myself later repeating to Dirk & Tymothi:J with great effect. Great fun - I'm glad I took the chance that he wasn't a crazed Internet stalker (tm).
