March 22, 2003
Cosmos Factory
Why am I sour at the prospect of a job? Why must I get weird, forboding feelings when I am in dire need of a steady, nay, even sporadic, paycheck?
So. Wasted gas driving around putting in applications. I think the day could've been better spent waxing poetic in a random journal but, alas, that does not yet pay.
I have to sit for my cousin Korey tonight, for likely five dollars an hour. I am not complaining. Five dollars is infinitely more than zero dollars. Perhaps I shall drag along Monster's Inc or Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone with which to entertain her? I am not feeling entirely up to par so there is definitely going to be some coaxing her into falling asleep mid-film.
After reading The Nanny Diaries, why do I feel so loving and maternal? And why does that warmness immediately evaporate at the sight of an actual child?
My mind is caught up elsewhere, still curled up, I think, on Mike's couch. We drug it from the garage to the patio, and the two of us sat under the murky sky; drinking hot coffee and watching the planes roar overhead. There are all sorts of sweet things revolving about in my mind, but there is also a strange heaviness.
Perhaps it is the thought of a cold bed tonight.
astera at 7:07 p.m.