Kara Thrace and Her Special Destiny. The Sunbeam mixer that once was THE cake mixer in my household now sitting unused and unloved, ironically upon the dining room table. Where fake skulls adorn the china cabinet... macabre visuals from a Halloween long over. My friend's digital camera. I should take a picture.
I did. Two actually. In one I looked tired. Cameras do not lie. And the other... well, not as tired. The faint hint of a smile and expended effort to keep my eyes open wide probably went a long way in that. Felt impish for just a second, but didn't take any snaps of anything taboo. It's not the same anymore is it... I mean, there was once a thrill in taking a random, naughty picture with someone else's camera and knowing that at some point they'd have to explain it to someone when it was developed.
Not that I ever did that. Just saying that the world of digital cameras has ruined that for people.
The idea of going into work tomorrow is wholly unsatisfying to me. I'm restless. I want to go somewhere. For a drive. I want to be on a road and not be surrounded by traffic. By loud trucks that drown out my stereo as they downshift right beside me. jj
Two random jays. I'm gonna leave 'em there. That was me kinda falling asleep. Sweet. I guess I am actually tired and can actually get some shut eye. Or I could stay up a bit longer and chat with my roommate who just came downstairs. "What are you still doing up," he asks as he disappears into the kitchen for a drink. "Just up." I repsond.
I think I'll go talk to him now. Then it's off to bed as it's late and while working tomorrow has no interest for me, I'm still gonna go. That's why it's called work.
The weekend cannot get here quick enough.
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