[written September 15, 2005]
It'd been three days since I'd quit my job and I hadn't even looked for another one. Didn't scan the newspaper classifieds; didn't bother with any unemployment hot-lines. I just didn't have the ambition. My mom would've told me, "You need more drive; you need to do something!"
In that case, I probably would've said, "Do what? Waste my time with a job I hate? Where is that going to get me?"
All I had been doing for those three days was sleeping. I'd watch television but I was never really watching it. The static of hollowed voices rang out and sang to me, kept my body company while I laid in a semi-coma. The light blue from the screen would dance off of my face and make my pale skin look even more pale. I didn't care.
At night, I would wander around in places I probably shouldn't have been. The first night, I walked down a dimly lit alleyway that could've easily been the back-end of an abortion clinic. Not a clean one, either. Toward the end it just got dark