on the porch drinkin' ice cold cherry coke, where everything is black and white

Boston's pouring with rain; I am lonely today. I guess the semicolon would suggest they're connected, they're not, I just like proving that I went to college.

I realized when I sat down just now that I haven't said a face-to-face word with anybody today with the exception of Kelly, who is paid to listen to the things I say. Just read that sentence back and now I'm thinking maybe that's not so unusual, maybe many people go through their days solo and stay connected solely through the phone, maybe that's not so odd. Heh. Maybe I'm just looking for a reason to feel sorry for myself (I'm so very good at that). I had Symmetry this morning, then Kelly, then this hour and a half Yoga class from which my shoulders and wrists are pretty sore; there- that's a good reason! And one I can't complain about but once.
I'm still in my totally sweaty yoga clothes, and this isn't gym sweaty, this is wring-out-my-pants-into-a-bucket sweaty. The kind of sweaty where, as I'm driving home, I'm trying to support all my weight in my feet and my hands on the steering wheel thereby assuring my butt doesn't actually touch the seat and leave this massive ass mark. That usually lasts about two blocks.
So now I'm home, I'm eating some yogurt and honey, I'm finished with the first part of this week's Symmetry homework, and I've got two hours before I need to be at work for the dinner shift. I've got the big book that I bought at the meeting monday morning sitting atop the shelf to my left. This is my first experience with feeling as though an inanimate object is actively staring at me. Even text books and unfamiliar music for approaching concerts never gave me the eye like this. Big voice says shower, download music, catch up on dear abby. Little voice says do the reading Terri asked me to do. First three chapters, then some writing. I feel stupid being told this. Stupid because I've grown up hearing this damn book read, I've read the first three chapters myself before, and stupid because after all that I still need to do it again. Also because I remember telling Lucy once when we were all at the Sunday meeting (and mind you, I was 11), that we'd never have to worry about needing to come to these meetings because we'd already know what to do. I guess that means the lesson I got from going was simply 'don't develop a thinking problem'. And a whole bunch of nifty catch phrases. I don't think I ever listened closely enough to get the message of 'don't develop a thinking problem. Or a feeling problem. Or an eating disorder while you're at it'.
Hm. Just fear. I'm afraid. I am lonely.

So now that I've procrastinated thoroughly by writing here, I'm gonna sit on the floor next to my teeny space heater and read chapters 1-3 for the next half hour, or however long it takes. I won't die of being sweaty a little longer.

Then shower, then to Upstairs for the dinner shift.