Ride Shares

I thought maybe I'd try to do something useful with my time today so I finally brought my car to a garage. On my last day off, I thought I'd try a couple recipes I know that Luke would have wanted to make with me. They were too adventurous for Tim's dad though. I wish he would talk to me.

I hate this apartment. Its like putting flowers on Algernon's grave: looking around this room, at the mess, at the things that used to mean something to me. I hardly ever put on my old clothes anymore. I hardly touch the things in my closet. I'm thinking about selling my records for money to get back home. My futon folds in the middle.

Niacin.

This is what it means to be unhealthy. I hardly want to look at anyone else. I cannot even plaster on a reassuring smile for them. They look at me like they're worried. They thought they'd help me and set me free but I've done nothing to prove that any of it was worth the trouble. That two mile bike ride back from the auto mechanic's kicked my ass. I am cold...all the time, but especially at night because I only own three blankets.

There is one major difference between South Carolina and Massachusetts. Our state and local governments in Massachusetts have huge deficits, while people continue to live comfortably in culdesacs and two story homes. South Carolina's government can't figure out what do with the extra money, while their residents suffer in poverty. I don't get it....in a liberal state, we pay higher taxes, and support public programs that benefit the state as a whole. In South Carolina, the cost of living is kept low, government money goes into grounds keeping on state property, and city revitalization. How is the weight shifted like that? And why is it so freaking cold in this house?

I need a plane ticket at a busy time of year. I want to sit on the end of Nick's bed and listen to him play guitar. I'm a wrecking ball, and I leave a mess wherever I go.