Monday's notes

[taratemima]

Nine hours of sleep, and my eyes still feel heavy, I still feel tired. This is not fair.

Every person I met starts a war
between their love and my fear.

Until today, until you
it seemed like my fear
always won.

I found out the real reason my younger sister is over the house a lot. Apparently, her roommate and she are fighting. The roommate thinks my sister spends too much time obsessing over men and not enough time with her. My sister feels that she cannot spend the amount of time hanging out with her roommate without neglecting friends, family and, yes, boyfriend. I feel a little dumb, since I had been meaning to go to open mic nights with her, but I keep forgetting. I tended to justify this by saying, "Eh, she
doesn't want to hang out with me anyway." Now I wonder if I made a mistake. If somehow, if I knew, I could take some of the pressure from my sister.

Meanwhile, the daughter of my mother's boyfriend continues to bug the shit of me. It is nothing direct that she does, her laughing annoys me, her gossiping about her Germantown friends annoy me, the yelling when she doesn't get her way annoys me. I think she tried to start a
conversation by asking what bands I like. Since I wasn't in the mood to explain who
they were to her Top 40 listening self, I gave curt answers.

Sunday, I sat around feeling vaguely angry at everyone. Today, I am wondering why can't I go through work without making some dumb mistake. If it is not in claims, it is some piece of social conduct. I want a job where I don't feel like an idiot for not being able to do what comes easily
to others, be it do perfect claims or not make social mistakes. That kind of job, reading and writing intensive, is both rare and needing a lot more training than I can afford. I have to have internships involving writing, and much of what I have is vaguely technical. However, it is not
recent or extensive enough to make me feel comfortable about applying for a position. I don't have an MFA or a recent protofolio, so I am not qualified for it. I hate especially when they explain why what I did was so unpleasant. Goddamn, I figured it out after the first sentence. I am sorry, I mean, why am
I getting held back from my work for a lecture? Why do I feel like I am eight years old again?



I worked eight hours today. Someone wants to read my stories. Need to finish and print the rest of novel for her.