Glob is scattered again(?). I left scraps on Amy's laptop. I've got looseleaf sheets in a light blue folder. Other bits are epehemeral--littered within the walls of this blog!- or spread across several journals.
I'm not sure when or how it will condense, coagulate into a comprehensible whole.
I haven't had the head for it the last few days, too hungover to connect the dots, dancing and drinking in between Soma shifts before the chemicals can catch up with me and crash. Monday I wrap myself in a neon afghan and moan on my bed...a drained day off and a milestone birthday looming uncomfortably ahead. It is a painful day to assess my progress. I sip from a jar of soymilk and earl gray the color of panty hose in a plastic egg and listen to Head Like a Hole to ease my troubled mind.
Me: I will write in my notebook till the world explodes
Ian: I will draw the NIN logo in yr margins
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