there was always a part of me that hoped for more, and so there was a part of me that was always a fool

I've been listening to a mix CD that I made for Sleek, my old friend/whatever at the library. It's a good mix, set up well in music and in lyrics, so it's easy to hear even after all this time. The funny thing about it is how transparent it is. Was I trying to be so obvious, or did I think I was sneaky? Regardless, I've had more than a few surprised laughs as the next song pops up and I sing a line or two and am transported instantly back to those feelings.


Say something, say something - anything
I've shown you everything
Give me a sign
That we remain friends to this day is a sign of his true kindness.

I saw my new dentist this afternoon. The office was chosen out of the online list provided by my insurance (and with the obvious benefit that I don't know the dentists there, which is not the case all over town). They're in a brand-new building by the highway (flanked by a Caribou Coffee, which is unfortunate). The office is a little futuristic and stark, but it was comfortable enough for the purpose. There were X-rays, a panoramic X-ray of my head (necessitating the removal of all six earrings, which was disconcerting and difficult!), cleaning, jabbing-poking-bleeding-crying inside, flossing, and a quite comprehensive check by the dentist, not only of teeth but my whole face, basically. I was given the thumbs-up and released for another six months. W00t.

Work has been incredibly schizo lately: either ferociously busy, so that I'm almost tripping over myself rushing to get things done, or so godawful dead boring that I can hardly stay awake to jab myself with a paperclip to spur some movement. To be honest, I'm not comfortable with either of the extremes, and wonder if there was a way we could organize things so that it's a more reasonable flow. Alas, not my problem. It's weird to be so totally not management after all this time. I don't miss managing the people (AT. ALL.) but the things, the flow? I miss that.

Because my life is insane, I'm sort of being stalked again. This one's not dangerous (are they ever?) but just profoundly irritating. I do sometimes wish I could disappear.

And now my computer's informed me that I'm running on reserve power. It has, allegedly, three minutes to live. Guess I'll cut this short.


I'd love you to love me
I'm begging you to beg me
[the title quotation is by Patrick Rothfuss, from The Wise Man's Fear]