i am a disgruntled employee parading around as a model employee today. my improv skills sold a canon fax machine to an adorable old german couple. to the point of disgusting myself with a voice two octaves higher and a "would you like to try three free months of aol" after every sentence. more in the new blue notebook (proving to be useful) surely typed up at a later time. though probably not here, probably in that livejournal place (where the people are goodly and my cd player is now fixed). diaryland is so anemic and uninteresting lately. i apologise pretty pink stripes. i have failed you.

i can't say enough how wonderful new music is. jurassic five is terrific. modest mouse is. i listen to it when it isn't playing.

i cannot impress unto you how much i love music. very few things in this world can make me feel like it does. happiness is painful and sadness is beautiful. and backwards. and upside down. and all different things. and i am looking for things to say but i think i will spend the rest of my break in barnes and noble.

twenty-two minutes left. i suppose that is enough.

perhaps not.

i had a dream the other night my dad wanted to give me a bunch of eightyeight cent cds (that's workrelated). and i refused him and told him off in front of his mother. i told him he was my father and that would never change but our relationship is over.

i had another dream i went through a long walk in a cereal aisle and bought two different kinds of raisin bran and was really disappointed when i woke up. these are the dreams that are easily controlled, mind you. i spend my lucidity buying raisin bran.

i had a dream on a day i cannot remember last week that sean wanted me to call him. really desperately wanted me to call him. i almost did so when i woke up but thought better of it.

last night-- er, this morning after the meeting was another dream of doom and destruction. where everything is fine and then suddenly disaster strikes and we all must deal with it in some strange yet amusing manner. we were in some school/hospital. i was talking to an old man who was a teacher and a writer of some sort and i cannot for the life of me remember his name.. though it was written at the top of the paper.. started with an R. i didn't know him at first but he turned out to be someone i had written something for.. and he had taken the information i had given him and written this massive thesis of some sort about something really important and fantastic. and we were having this wonderful meeting of discovery and then.

i don't remember exactly what happened anymore. but i was some other character, maybe even myself, running around trying to show everyone the way out. you have to leave rightnow! i said. pack up your things and leave them there and get on out! and i ran and i ran down some aisles straight into a man with a bomb that looked like the bacteria i drew the other day i cannot remember the name of. it has a diamond shaped head and spider legs. and he threw it at me. and i ran like slow-motion and jumped at the explosion but i knew my back was full of shrapnel with the good possibility of a gaping hole.

but i wasn't dead, that was for sure. i had no choice but to keep ushering people out. and the old man tried to stop me but i would have none of it. and gradually the pain started to dull. i stepped into an elevator (with elise?) singing loudly while the muscles and flesh and shrapnel ceased to be a bother.

then i remember being outside, without the injury, i think. between the building and a forest and getting into a white car with nick, the old man, and some other people.. never do know what we're escaping. three minutes left. and i want to go to sleep. enough with darting my wicked eyes back and forth not caring enough to distinguish between customer and employee. enough with standing so very still and thinking of nothing but that dot on top of the i in communications (the i in the middle, in case you were curious). enough with enough. no sleep for me. five more hours of work. at least i get my table to morrow.