05.05.04

Good golly. Kinda whacky, so this is going to be a spew.

The lit. mag. is getting down to the wire. AAAAAAA!!!!!!! I love the stress (on some sick level) but I hate it, too. Actually, I hate the way that I act when I'm feeling stressed. I always get embarrassed later, but can't stop myself at the time. One of these days I'll get it right.

Today we got dingbats chosen--a delicate matter, involving much discussion. *laugh* Uhm, oh! Credits and titles were placed for the art, the titles and authors moved to the outer margins for each piece, surnames added to the footers for multi-page prose pieces, some re-sequencing, some more pieces added, grammatical tweaking (thanks to the crack troops of the Editor Corps, Proofreading Division--their marching song? O'er hill and o'er dale; armed only with carmine ink. We proof the words, we save the day, we'd better, don't you think?!), table of contents added and tried out...I'm sure I'm forgetting something. But that's what I focused on today. *grin* *sob* *grin*

Bought gas for Tora. Just about had an attack of the vapours in the am/pm store when I got the total. God's nightgown! $2.07 for regular unleaded? And you know, you know, that the price of gas is only going to go up after the utter horror of the Iraqi prisoners. That's a whole 'nother thing that's been on my mind a lot.

I kept on trying to ignore it, because it is so horrible. I cannot, for the same reason. Words fail me, and I'm not trying to be cute or lazy. I cannot find the way to describe how I feel. Anything I write seems so shrill. More time to process appears to be necessary.

Okay. Now anything I write about seems trite and stupid. So I guess I'll stop.

Ciao.

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