bus stop notes

(Imelda Marcos is not guilty.)

I'm back in the city, I arrived at 5 am and have been working in a bus station coffee shop, which is not as sketchy as you would think. Two point five hours until a lecture.

Workload: slightly nightmarish, but not a disaster.

I'm going through this weird thing where nothing seems that real. Crazy insanity happens and it's just like "then x happened," part of the narrative. I'm almost afraid to talk about it because it might make it more real and I don't know how I would deal with it. So I'm just like: focus on work, focus on here, this, graduating.

(PQ cut high school sex ed.)

Today it's been exactly a year since I first kissed RBH. It took us about six weeks after meeting, so it's kind of a sweet marker.

Today is also a massive social event I've kind of conceptualized and organized and really haven't planned and don't know what I'm doing for. Uh. So hopefully it's fun and no one notices the lack of planning. Tonight my roommate's mom is visiting and I've been casually turfed from my bed, I think, which is like uhnhhhh

(The morning news is more interesting than I thought?)