Friday, 28 December 2001 | In town

I meant to walk through the door and write down the words that surfaced in my brain on the way home from work, but, instead, I climbed into bed and stared at my computer until my eyes fell shut, letting those thoughts race over my brain's surface until they seeped back in and reemerged as dreamy nonsense. There's not enough time to do everything I plan to do this weekend, even if it is twice as long. It would be easier if all of the normally out-of-town friends that are here knew each other, so that there'd be a convenient bird-to-stone ratio, like 8 to 1.

He's in town, and even though he's not calling or coming by and it shouldn't feel much different than if he were five hundred miles away, it does.