Men. Argh.
7:07 p.m. - September 11, 2003

I am still sans period.

Granted, it's only Thursday. I normally start on Tuesday evenings...and that was only two days ago. Today I had one bend over double cramp and a few others. But still, nothing.

I was going to stop to pick up a test to take in the morning but I chickened out. I'm really trying not to think about it, not to stress over it and make it worse.

And he hasn't called to say anything. Not to ask if I gotten it yet or are you pregnant or could it be anything else? I told him I'd call if I found out I was pregnant but leave him alone otherwise but I still thought he might call to check on me. Does he think everything is a-okay or is he so involved with his New Life that he doesn't care?

Why do I care?

Fucked up.

I worry about everything. Is that a back ache? I just ate two bowls of Rice Chex - why am I still hungry? Should I drink? Am I doing damage to someone other than myself when I take a drag on that cigarette?

Argh.

Last night I found mysterious tears dripping down my cheeks on more than three or four occassions.

The Going to See a Band thing fell through Tuesday night but they're playing at a local bar tonight so I'm going with Annie and her husband, The Lip Kisser. I asked Tim if he wanted to go - or rather said we're going if he'd like to go but the damned man won't commit to anything. Why is that? Why can't a man just say, "Yeah, I've been working my ass off and could probably use a night out" or "Nah, I think I'm going to get some work done and veg out at home." Is that so difficult? Commitment-phobes.

Or Over Commitment-phobes. Depends on who you're talking about, I guess.

Two years ago. September Eleventh. I met my then boyfriend and Jen at the bar, unable to think about anything other than the events of the horrid day. One night, eons ago, Big and I had a discussion about that day, where we were when we heard the news and what we did. We were both at the same bar at the same time (which probably happened more than once). My hair was bleach blonde and he remembered seeing me. We met fourteen months later at the same bar. I wonder if he thought that selfish little thought today.

My co-workers chatted through the moment of silence until I put the phone on speaker and sat it next to the radio which was playing, "Proud to be an American."

Argh. Again.

Off to take a shower and try to look cute. Wondering if I should call Tim. I have to use a calling card. There's something wrong with my long distance. Anyway, I don't want to call him becuase he'll just hem and haw and then say he might show up. And then he won't.

Men.

Yay, the Blue Man Group is coming to Dayton!

Love,

Schizo Sushi Chick

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