I dream of you and me drunk careening

I'm trying to sleep, but there are phrases running around inside my head and I know from experience that they won't quit it until I get them out. I'm too tired to write and typing is easier, so here are some things I feel I have to say:

I often feel like I'm in a 1940's hard-boiled detective novel, but often I can't tell if I'm the star or just an extra.

I'm becoming increasingly afraid that the things I write, both here and elsewhere, are more true than the things I say.

I really really like it when Jeff and I write about the same events. I can't figure out if it's because he's validating my experiences or because he makes me feel unsure like a 16-year-old.

My favorite feature is my hipbones and I worry that someday they'll disappear and I won't be able to find another part of my body to attach myself to.

I often look at my mass of books and can't remember why it's so important for me to read them even once, let alone over and over again. But then I read one and remember.

I moved my bed tonight and for some reason the sheets that are on it now remind me even more of a hospital room than they usually do and I either need to do laundry and wash the others or buy more sheets.

I want to be everything to all of you.

Square people

I've been making lots of jokes lately about how my boss is a nutcase, but how it's ok because my paychecks haven't bounced. They were still pretty funny right up until my paycheck bounced.

Toby calls me cheap but really, I'm just constantly being prepared for things like this so that life will continue to be ok.