VICTIM COMPLEX NO 54: WHEN ANXIOUS WHALES ATTACK.

Tick tock I can't stop listening to Sasha.

I'm delightfully astonished to find that sleeping from midnight to 8AM really works for me. Naps-out-of-desperation were slowly killing my soul so I'm avoiding them as much as possible, too. So aside from the ridiculous work exhaustion, I feel fairly rested up.

I went to Barnes & Noble tonight to find the mate to this book I've had for some time now. Naturally they didn't have it. Every single time I go to Barnes & Noble I have a specific book in mind and every single time they serve me up a heap of disappointment. I'll probably find it at Border's tomorrow.

Feeling drastically anti-social. Keep thinking I should find a better job or something, keep thinking I need to email that Bob guy about voiceover stuff. Keep wondering if I could make a lucrative living off of that.

Last night I tossed and turned and dreamt about cleaning up fingerprints on the pastry case doors at work. When I wasn't doing that, I was handing off a drink to someone or talking to one of my coworkers. Ugh. It rained and rained and rained, probably until after 2AM. When I got up this morning, I thought about how the ground looked swollen like eyes after crying. Tonight I stepped in another puddle in heels and screamed, my jeans soaked about six inches up the leg. EVERYTHING IS AN ADVENTURE.

The fire alarm has been going off at the partially-constructed elementery school across the street for who knows how long now, probably about two or three hours. There is this crickety buzz sound with flashing lights. I'm glad to see that this alarm has summoned emergency personnel since that's clearly what it's for. RUN INTO CLASS, KIDS.

I have 12 minutes until I should be sleeping. I'm ready.