"Who gave you the right to play God?"

"Position was vacant. So I took it."

I must admit, I love this show. It's pretty depressing sometimes, though, as in this case, where they're arresting a doctor who kills and harvests the organs of boys who brutally gang-raped a girl.

On the other hand, my cat has now curled up on my lap, making further typing impossible.

One year older and I feel too old. I hate arguing with my mom, largely because it borders on emotional abuse. Borders only, though, I think. The same arguments she puts forward, the same answers to her questions, which she ignores, and we go round and round. I talk to my boyfriend on the phone, who reminds me that we can always get married at city hall and move in together. I desperately want to take him up on that, but I also don't want to alienate my parents any further. I know that if I left, it would probably harm their relationship too, since dad might blame mom, and other things, and I feel like both of them are already somewhat depressed. I wish I could just breathe some life into their lives and their relationship, but dad sits at home playing spider solitaire and mom still works, unhappily, and stays up late watching reruns. I used to do that. I know it didn't make me happy.

So tonight I have been sad. I am still a little sad, but I will try to be positive. I do not like going to bed with an unhappy mind.

we're here (almost gone)

Our trip down to see his mom (and dog, who is more like his little brother, and cat, who is just exactly a cat) is almost over. They're out walking the little brother while I sit, get train tickets, mind the pasta on the stove, and mournfully look at the clock, noting that we are going to be leaving the house more than an hour later than we said. Boy and I are headed to Monterey, a couple hours away, to see the beach and aquarium and have a look around.

I still don't have a job. Like many young people these days, I am facing moving back in with my parents. As they are a bit over three hours away from where I'm living (and where Boy's living), I really don't want to go, even though I think we'd get along pretty well and I do like the house.

I hate that feeling of dirty teeth, so I'd better go. I wonder how many hours of the year one spends brushing one's teeth?

Job job job job job

that's what my mind is running, like a radio coming in and out when you're doing other things

job job job job jobjobjobjobjobjobjobJOOOBBB.

Sent off two more applications today, I should be counting these so I will be able to say "well now I'm up to forty!" or "fifty's got to mean a positive response, come on, someone"

Proof of perseverance.

We are into July, and the weather feels like April, except that it is distinctly muggier.

He makes eggs and talks to his mom - we're planning another trip down to see her - and I'm sending off an email, drafted last night before the movie with his dad, responding to a response I received for a job application I sent in. Woohoo! It probably wouldn't be the kind of full-time gig I'd need to stay in the city, but it's a start, and maybe it will help me cover the ~$400 I'm missing from my roommates for a couple bills they are late in paying, that are in my name.

Breakfast. I hope I get some other job offers too.

Things have been going really really well! Just have to stay balanced.