*zyxwvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcba. 2001-12-18 11:35 p.m.*

i've cried almost all day today. except for at work, but there were some close calls. i almost broke down for some reason, while reading an answering machine message, and when i had this 2 hour block where no one would do a damn survey, i had far too much time to think. doing surveys is like meditation. it clears my brain so nicely. i wound up doing 6 or 7, which is pretty good, i think. i was supposed to have done one an hour, and i was there for 5 hours. and my mood really improved when i was doing surveys. but i wanted to cry again on the drive home, and pretty much started immediately upon entering my bedroom. i can understand why the inability to cry can be emotionally taxing, but the inability not to cry is pretty frustrating itself. my eyes are actually starting to hurt, which never happens. and my eyes are red, which never happens. i remember reading books and watching tv shows where there were characters that didn't want to cry because of how it made their face all puffy and stuff. and my face never does that. it's like it's too accustomed to crying to even be fazed by it. honestly, up until the end of middle school, i didn't think a day went by that i didn't cry, and i don't like that i've gotten back into that pattern. especially since, except for work, i've cried at least once an hour.

i think a lot of it is just that i've been tired all day. it was SOOO hard getting up this morning. the phone rang at 9, and waking up to answer it was like swimming out of some big black ocean of some thick liquid. but it was that state of tiredness where my body believed that if i had to wake up at that time, there must be a reason, and so i really didn't fall back to sleep, though i didn't get up until the phone rang again at 11. i almost fell asleep around 4:15 today, but then i had to get to work. and so my sleepiness has not made my mood any brighter. my kitten is the one bright spot in my day. sleeping on my chest with that "yes, i know i'm the prettiest ever" expression on her face until her chin slowly hits my chest, licking my seemingly endless tears away.

but it seems like the tears have dried momentarily, so i'm going to venture downstairs for some warm form of sustenance, and squirrel myself away with it, meet mr. mulliner by p.g. wodehouse, and music.

*listening to: *
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