Monday, April 14, 2003

I feel like a high school senior in math class a month before graduation--staring out the window instead of listening to the lecture on sines and cosines, my unfinished homework still in my bag.

I'm antsy this morning. I can't seem to focus on anything. And my thoughts keep getting interrupted by other thoughts. I keep telling my office-mate what it is I'm working on so that she can remind me in five minutes when I've forgotten what I was trying to do before I started watching the wind making ripples in the water and counting the cars entering the parking lot for the lobster shop on the other side of the Big Dig.

It's hard to be inside today. I feel like I'm missing something. I think that something's coming to and end but I don't know what's on the other side.

My company of 14 days just announced that they will be making 1800 layoffs by the end of the month and I'm watching a seagull fly past my window.

I'm staring at the signs for the $7 parking on the other side of the bridge.
I'm wishing they hadn't installed surveillance cameras on our floor here at work.

It's three days until my birthday and I'm trying to figure out what my ideal birthday dinner will be.
I'm dreaming of birthday cake and staring at the cupcakes sitting on the table in my office.

I wish I knew how to play an instrument.