I dreamed that Pat Tim and I sat somewhere and I told them my dreams from earlier in my dream.Tim timidly said he dreamed he and Ashley were doing it and then adult cream, his way of saying semen. He didn't finish the sentence, and I saw a mat or something on the floor in front of me and it had different colors written on it and I guessed Orange? and He agreed, so his semen had been orange, but it wasn't disgusting, just a little uncomfortable, and I thought of orange cream, like desserts.

I went to the library and saw Stacy. On the way I knew it would be hard. It was even harder than I thought. I couldn't speak for a few minutes. I kept crying and trying to talk, say anything, but my throat was so tight and I just had to try to breathe. I just decribed things. The trouble comes when I try to explain things I don't understand, especially myself.

I felt all right at the end. My eyes were salty. I drove back to the library. I rolled the car windows down. I went in and talked to Kathleen, thanked her for recommending me, said I am excited about the temp job. I felt very good about doing that. Not just that hopefully Kathleen appreciated it and it could help me land the job, but just to be in control and to follow thru with a good idea and for it to go well.

I read a page of Self-Meaning. It is turning me inside out, as I put it in a text to Aaron. Yesterday, I wanted to say, 'Life is weird' to Chad, but didn't. Then he said to me, Daylight savings time is weird... so I said Life is weird in general, he agreed. Then I said I'm going on lunch, and he said, On that note.. I'm gonna go ponder. I said yeah.

I ate some stuff. I look forward to going back to Bridgett's apartment. I should shower in a minute. I need to leave for work in about an hour. I am not boring. I have about three more days of being alone in the apartment. I see Kit and Mom in two days, on my day off. It's so easy to waste time by doing a job. I don't even want to call it work. Work is supposed to be good. I'm just playing along with tradition to survive.

I'm listening HSPTL by open mike eagle. It's kooky and lovely.

All the paragraphs start with I, Oh Well, Bye, Myself... I'll be you again.