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04.24.03 - 7:44 a.m. so, i woke up at 6:04 this morning and all of this is REALLY starting to piss me off. I love sleeping. Only a few of you really know what i mean when i say this. I mean i love the whole thing. I love the shower beforehand. I love even at 10 when i start to think about going to bed. I mean that sometimes, when im at a show, and its hot and everyone is freaking out and i am the happiest girl in the world, i can think about showering and the subsequent bedtime and i am even happier. I am a creature of comfort in the highest degree. This is why i have never pretended that i would like to go into the peace corp or backpack across europe or all of the other things that my friends have done. I dont even pretend that its something i could do. I am completely willing to attest to the fact that if i dont bathe before sleep i wont sleep. "There are some things worse than not being married...and one of those things is being married..." Apparantly waking up at 6 keeps me off course but my mom said that last night over dinner and although its probably been crocheted into a thousand pillows at a thousand cracker barrels, when it comes from mom i just think shes the best and i am impressed like i was 7 years old again and she has unlaced those converse that always managed to end up in the most intricate knots... In any case...i was on a train... Sleeping. Yes. Lately, if i am not waking up at 4 with breathtakingly terrifying dreams then i wake up at 5:40 dumb and wide awake like an infant and its REALLY starting to curb my style. At first i thought, well, this is my body telling me its not sleepy and she knows better than i do what she does and does not need. So i would wake up at 6 and take a long long long long shower (which WAS kinda nice) and i would apply my mascara with such care, no clumps. Id try on old clothes i havent worn since high school and take them off, check the downstairs mirror come back, change my shoes, earrings. Id eat a leisurely breakfast and watch the Golden Girls...and to some this all sounds nice, and when i read it back it sounds like something that i would enjoy, but the truth is, dammit, its fucking 6 oclock and thats just unacceptable. Fucking 6 oclock. Part of the reason i took this job was that i wouldnt have to wake up until 9, and now, well, you know, 6. Dammit. So, this morning, its 6 and im wide awake. And hot. I roll over to the other side of the bed and then, my head where my feet should be. I take the covers off, put them on. I whistle and then im pissed that im whistling, its fucking 6. I think i say goddammit out loud and look out the window, its still dark with no argument. Well. And then, my mother of course, bearer of all seeds which sow all bad ideas. "Youre not sleeping, love, because youre not getting enough exercise..." and god, this used to PISS me OFF! when i was growing up because of course she thinks i am fat and ugly and horrible and awkward and brian provanzano will NEVER love me! and i will never get into college and the snowball of insecurity that is just now breaking up, peices still chipping off and stinging my leg. The truth is that i havent been getting exercise. The classes i used to attend that i actally enjoyed as much as one can enjoy being out of breath and sweaty and achey only meet when i am at work and when i get home at 8 its getting dark and dinner and i dont like missing dinner as we know...so, no, i havent been exercising and i CAN tell the difference but its america and who has time to exercise? So i am thinking about this exercise im not getting as i am cussing and trying to sleep and cussing. And then, moms seed...maybe i should go run. And i KNOW this isnt smart. I am NOT a runner. I know this. I just do. It is not that i am not athletic or bulky but its just not me. I hate running. Hate. Its the reason, really, i decided i didnt need to play varsity basketball and quit and softball, and so on. Maybe this is irrational. I dont know. Runners would tell me EVERYONE can run and they'd, like, try to set me up with a "plan" and theyd hand me a granola bar (Which max calls gorilla bars...aww...). Well, in any case, i have more negative feelings about running that i wont share here, but i will tell you that in school i used to run, not really out of desire but more out of that miserable stress and in- loveness that you can only outrun and sidles up to you when you stop, climbing onto your back again. i used to run everynight...miles even. I include this so that you know that i HAVE tried all you runners out there. I am thinking about how i used to run as i reach the next block over and how i will be fine and then i am thinking about how boring running is and how i can hear the inside of me going..."um, kate, WHAT are you doing? Go back to BED are you CRAZY? Do you KNOW what time it is?" and i do know and i sort of apologize to myself and then, take it back because WHO woke up at 6??Huh? Not ME fucker, YOU! And then, this thing that happens. Its like, my teeth start to hurt. Not my legs or my lungs or whatever else, but my gums. Its like someone is shoving straws between my teeth, like my teeth are expanding. Its horrific, and painful and completely bizarre in a way that maybe only I could manage. So my teeth start to hurt and im like, "fuck!" and they are hurting, but because i am catholic i keep going on and im trying to enjoy the morning, but i DONT enjoy the morning. I SLEEP in the morning, i dont run...and i am thinking about all of this And then. The itching. Please, if any of you run...explain this. Its like all of a sudden BOTH of my legs start itching like fucking CRAZY! i dont know if its the circulation or dry skin or WHAT, but god! could anything be worse? Its like every square milimeter must be covered with bugs and i KNOW that if i look they will be and i cant stand it. I mean, its totally intense and completely miserable. And this has happened all along, which was part of the boycott. So, theyre itching and my gums, you know, my gums fucking hurt and i am the most unhappy girl in the world and im not really almost home and i KNOW that if i itch them, the itch increases 500-fold but i do it anyway, of course, because the alternative of not scratching is infinitely worse and the increase is almost worth the literal split second of release. So i scratch. I stop in the middle of the road and scratch the hell out of my legs and im scared to stop, becasue i know whats in store, and my gums, still, shooting pain leadened with a dull ache that makes me want to lay in the road and wait for a sweet car to take me. And this all sounds melodramatic but if youve ever felt it, then you know. And i stop because i have to, beacause i have to do something. And its hell. Hell. I fucking tear home, running as fast as possible, through the yard, up the driveway, i stop to pick up moms garden shearers which she always leaves at some inane and completely random spot in the middle of our giant yard. I make it to the door and im trying to be quiet because everyone else in the house managed the step in development where they sleep through the night. And im tearing off my clothes on the way up the stairs and i get in the shower as its still freezing cold, waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting for some sort of realease. And at that point, i sort of want to die. And then, EVERYTHING is getting on my nerves. The rythmic drip of the shower faucet, the way the spray bounces off the shelf and sprays my left leg with a near constant yet completely patternless shock of frigid water. Thats annoying, and my legs still, and the fact thats its STILL only 6:45, and i drop my razir and the cartridge comes off and down the drain but when i lunge for it unsuccesfully i slice three clean stripes in my thumb and manage to tip over my liter bottle of conditioner directly onto my toe. I think about practicing zen in the morning Then i think about when i asked the old man if he ever had feelings for me while i was a student he said, "Oh Kate, no, of course not, i would never take advantage of our relationship like that, its not in my zen..." which i found completely moronic at the time and continue to laugh at, sardonically. First of all, can "zen" contain something like a suitcase or your bathroom cabinet? I wonder. And fuck him, he grew up as catholic as i did, what does he know about zen? In any case, i think about maybe doing yoga, but if im going to be relaxing at 6 am id like to be doing it within the confines of my mattress. this brings me back to the idea that i woke up at 6 and im mad all over again and i dont have another razor and my tow throbs from the conditioner and my thumb is bleeding, and continues, Im mad at the old man, im mad that i got up to run, knowing better, im mad that i dont have anything to wear, oh man, im just....im just, a writer. How do you stand me? Im fucking exhausted. I have to be at work in one and a half hours and all i want to do is go to bed. Ive tried tylenol nighttime but that does the opposite and getting out of bed at 9:30 seems worse than anything else in the world including losing my job. Melotonin maybe? Only after all of the drugs that i have done, wont my body be like "ha! what the hell is this? Aw. whats a matter kate, you cant sleep, huh? You cant sleep baby, huh??" Im afraid. Becc takes it but shes a damn granola. Bless her heart. In any case. this is fucking long Apparantly jimmy from work who asked my sign is planning on asking me out. He has an open marriage. Its just the worst thing ever. And the thing is hes a perfectly nice, and even smart, guy who just got going down a road you cant turn around on. Wife and then babies and then he caught her getting banged against a brick wall and from that point on their marriage was "open." He doesnt want to lose the children and i feel for his loss of joy. I hope my answer to him is kind and as gentle as possible. Even I know better than to stay as far away as possible from that one. But still, he is a cute boy, and if it werent for, you know, the wife and kids...but im already in the karmic hole...i know this, dont worry This Weekend: Wilco night in Chris' backyyard, maybe a gay night wedding where i could debut my new perfect black dress, housesitting for the Beautiful Couple while theyre at the beach. AND i am going to figure out ebay. Im selling ALL of my southernprogress clothes. Its time, and they all have tapered legs. Yikes. Okay, im leaving...its about time i wake up. loveandlove � 
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