I talked to the gaffer for an hour on the phone tonight. Until 1am.

I'm still hurting, he's still scared. We're going nowhere fast. So I continue on in my belief that it's over.

Tonight the lights outside are coming through my curtains more than I can bear. I actually snuck into my bathroom and broke out an eyemask thing that came in a kit from first class on British Airways. It also has a pair of socks, lip balm, breath mints, toothbrush and paste, body spray, aromatherapy shit, a washcloth. A few more things I think, but I can't remember. All packed into this adorable little kit bag.

I need the eye mask. My eyes have become so sensitive to light lately, I can't explain it. I find myself squinting all over the place. It hurts to look at the world. Light is meant to be a good thing, but instead I feel bombarded and sensitive, like I want to curl into a dark, warm space and blanket myself from the assault.

I'm eating Ryvita crackers with melted cheddar on them. Not the healthiest snack on earth, but comfort food and somewhat satisfying.

My 1% milk is particularly sweet warmed up. It's creamy enough.

I'm still hurting quite deeply, but I seem to be very good at living with it right now. But I talk to myself more these days in the hopes that someone is listening, maybe someone in the ether that might take mercy on me and reorder the universe so that I might be happy for once. It's a lot to ask, I know. And I don't know what I believe about the caretaker of the human race, or if there is a caretaker at all. I've always been inclined to believe there isn't. Logic and things that makes sense to me suggest there isn't. But there's a part of me, maybe my mother's voice, that somehow wants to believe I'm looked after and that if I am patient, the good things will come. If I believe, the good things will come.

But I feel like a fool. So to meet it all halfway, I talk to myself to make sense of my world, and that way if someone is listening, they'll know I'm speaking to them and if someone isn't, then I am simply working through my stuff.

Or I'm crazy. However you want to take it.

I really need to review my use of commas.

I just wish I knew what to do and how to proceed? I wish, like everyone else, that the answers were within my grasp and that I need only reach out with my little fingers and I'll touch something or someone who will make it all ok for me.

Because it's really not ok, no matter how well I go on with my day or how warm my 1% milk is.

This is not ok and I am not ok.

In the mail today:
some crap flyers. a bill. an invitation to subscribe to the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra, which I am considering.

Not in the mail today:
My Invader Zim DVDs.
My opera subscription.

Also:
Does my page take forever for people to load? Apparently it does but I can't imagine what would cause that, since there is only one photo on this page and it's not very big. Or maybe it is, I don't know. It loads in two seconds for me, but that's probably because the photo is cached or something. Let me know. And if it is ages and ages, does anyone know how I can fix that?