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11.03.02 - 11:49 p.m. so...im suffering from this time warp thing where i simultaneously feel as if i have way way too much time on my hands and not enough time at all. i feel like january could come along and i could have nothing done bc i am really not good at doing things prior to the night before and i am starting the whole grad school process early i think, or is it late. i dont know. I do know this. Al Pacino. He was born in 1940 and is 40 years older than i am but he is saved on my screen saver nonetheless bc damn...hes fucking hot. you know? All i want is a Godfather Marathon Weekend. Guns and promises and kisses of death. I think it will be this weekend. yes. Of course. In any case, something weird is happening to me. I am changing in some way that i can sense only in the forest through the trees type of way, but i think that when i am 40 or so and saved on some poor undergrads desktop, i think i will remember that at 23, things changed somehow. I am writing, and becoming familiar with my writing. I have no friends in this city yet hardly notice it. i dont know why. I feel content. I am hoping that jeff the drummer/ new boss comes through with this job. Please please please. And yes, i never thought as i walked across the stage to pick up my diploma that i would be hoping against all hope two years later that i get that receptionist job. The way things really happen is amusing. And i know that when i am 40 and people ask me what i did right out of school i wont be able to remember. I will have to sit down and think back. I will have to concentrate. All of this will be lost and that is strange. I owe all this to the recent hyper awareness of myself...its interesting. I wonder where i will be in less than a year from now. I could be anywhere. I hope that al pacino falls in love with me and we have a big italian wedding and there is garlic bread and brown eyed flower girls. In the meantime i hope for the receptionist job. He seemed to like me and assured me that my personality was too dynamic to be a librarian. I told him i liked books. He told me bullshit, he didnt want to hear it. I said fine, he said fine and then he saved my number in his cell phone. Please. Please. Please dont make me rake the classifieds. Nothing. NOTHING. is worse. nothing. Well, some things of course. Poverty, STD's, Hardees new Chili Burger, but for my practical purposes. Nothing. Happy Birthday Brad!!! Love and love. � 
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