Friday, September 21, 2001

i feel bitter and tired, despite having just had a white-chocolate-chip-dark-chocolate cookie. i'm in the same place i was at this time last week which also usually tickles me. didn't get to sleep last nite til 4:45 despite needing very much to replenish said supply. of course, then i didn't wake up til 11:30: phone ringing, becca wondering where i was, stat 2 hw to do (due at 2). i dashed to mccabe.
we worked, we delivered (a minute after 2), we ate. now we're at kohlberg, the coffee bar, and i'm brooding.

i don't like making demands on people. i don't like having to ask for things. and i hate not being able to express myself. i cried last nite in bed, feeling full of the kind of pressure that's sometimes relieved by crying.
jealous: he could speak, i couldn't; upset: he was upset, i couldn't help; passive: not being able to vocalize what i need. this goddamned stupid war-which-isn't-even-a-war-yet. has it already made him crazy or do i just fear it will? can i see it happening so clearly that in my mind, it already has? how can i just go on w/ my petty life, he said. he's under pressure too: to do all he can, to effect change. this environment only adds stress as everyone is becoming obsessed; how can he avoid that? i quoted kipling at one point, "if you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs," and he turned over in fury (4:35 a.m.) and went to sleep. he still held one of my arms; i covered my eyes w/ the other, thinking about explosions and whether or not i wanted him to wake up; fifteen minutes later i made myself lie back and sleep. when i woke up (11:35 a.m.), he was gone.

self-fulfilling prophecy? i don't want to conduct all our conversations at 2 a.m. i want to feel as free to talk as i have this year and as i did over the summer; i don't want constriction and, what, shyness? i want this to be less dramatic. sir bush, much of this depends on you. please don't let me down. i heard you speak last nite (oy, lack of a concrete opinion on this subject is stressing me out considerably as well ...) -- you didn't declare war, you seemed to make more sense than usual. i was almost proud of you.
how many days is it til october 31? should i be counting down? uch, god.

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