what? twelve oh four and it's wednesday and she's not at work? what is this, here? hM? i got to work [after four hours of getting up every nine minutes to shut off my alarm and to cough wetdrywheezing throat rawness]and i put away a load of glasses and did a little sidework and sat down and coughed and bitched about something i'm sure and eleni said it was too slow for four girls on the floor, would i like to leave and come back at three for the rest of my double shift [now cut so smoothly in half, hurrah]. permission from waitresses who'd been there earlier than i and i was on my happy way to the gasstation. last night's trip wore my poor little car out.

now that i am home, i'd like to go back and make money but out of the blue the coughing has gotten worse. [i'd suggest skipping the rest of this paragraph. especially if you are attracted to me in some way] this may be what is causing me to throw up or my body might be doing it all on it's own. but my eyes are red and my nose is bubbly and my throat is breeding monsters. everytime i drink some gatorade i start coughing and run to the bathroom. i start thinking how i used to have more control over this, the involuntary spasms that come, especially during that brief period.. wqhy the fuck am i talking about being sick.

yesterday afternoon i reinforced des' stubborn ways yet again. after much pleading i gave in and got in my smelly car, having half a clue about where i was going. only knowing that it would eventually be new college, sarasota, that it involved my successful passage over the sunshine skyway, and that i would need to be quick about it. of course i hit every red light out of tarponpalmharborclearwater. of course i made three or four wrong turns and got there just before she started reading. i stood just inside the door of the four winds cafe, a converted barn on the new college campus, a school that was supposedly begun by the cia to herd all the leftwinged children [haha you all fell for it] and it all lies on the old ringling mansion property. so it's a beautiful school. so it's full of hippie children in skirts and bare feet and lots and LOTS of tami latherows. there's like. 658 of them. students, not tami latherows. though it's probably close. des read her two pieces and i smiled proudly because she was nervous and was doing a fine job and she would have seen me there, standing by the door, if she had thought to look up or look at anything but her paper or jessi. she didn't see me when she sat down and didn't see me until after i'd snuck over and flicked her arm in between readers, jumping back to my spot behind the pole. i stood through des through blond haired shakespearian tami latherow, through redhaired fairytale freaky group sex tami latherow. through the girl who read about two girls who didn't love each other anymore and jess, jessi's best friend, who read about a fat man and a waitress. a nice waitress who was young and friendly and would grow old in the restaurant. her brown hair would turn grey. the story was about the fat man but right then and there i said i would try to find a job tomorrow. the story was pretty good, literary devices and writing from a perspective not your own and all that. i wasn't too impressed with any of the others. maybe i'm overly critical. maybe i know what i like. maybe i was more interested in watching people and wondering what it was that made these people choose this school. oh. the teacher read. mister matt sharpe, i believe. i was impressed with him. which is the way it should be. as he was the teacher. i stayed for a couple hours and we wandered around the campus and i saw a golf cart go up stairs and blah blah. lost a lot of momentum. i like to describe things. hey. i went to leave and the gasstation stole a dollar so i only had two and i missed the exit for st pete, so i went to howard franklin to sixty and almost ran out of gas and oh no. martin scorcese was on conan and i got distracted or who knows how long this would have been.

oh no.. no more gold member for sara.. um.. thirty dollars? i have it.. no no.. :(