January 5, 2003
The Horse and the Rider
I forgot my damn pillow.
It would be nice if my Mom would call, but I realize she is too busy trying to mess up her life and alienate her children to do so. It's okay. I'll be the adult and call her tomorrow at work.
I didn't bring a mug for my tea, either.
I've set up my Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring day calender on my desk, flanked by Legolas and Obi-Wan. I put Mike's picture frame on top of my milk crates, with the journal he bought for me tucked underneath. I've put the nine hundred novels I have to read on top of my dresser, and all of my Sponge Bob underwear within it.
I want to be at home. I don't mind class. I just don't think I can live up here anymore.
Lots of time spent with Mike is sure to render this problem obsolete.
My mom calling, or my brother, for that matter, might also help.
I won't let her drive me away.
I'm just going to keep thinking about yesterday until I've worn that memory thin. Others should follow. I'll be fine.
astera at 7:23 p.m.