Of Blackouts & Caffiene

Current mood: apathetic

"And the pouring rain is so no place for a bicycle ride... slidin' slidin' slidin" Do you ever find a song that fits your exact mood so well you cannot let go of it. You will not let the CD skip to the next track --- you just play it over and over and over again. Over again until the mood passes and with it the song fades away. "Slide" by Ani Difranco is that song, and this is my mood. So here's my foremost reason for resenting school. I have no energy. No energy to think - no energy to sit here and ponder - to write - to look outside and let my brain go wild with a thousand thoughts. Instead my time is occupied by reading and when I am not reading I am thinking about it. But is this actually a reason to complain? Is the onslaught of fatigure incurred by the monumental gain in knowledge over night reason to moan? I think not; Instead I will bathe in the glory that is Charles Darwin, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and Sylvia Plath. I will keep my mouth shut and let them do the talking. "And her feet were petals while her appetite steered..." Yet I am back here again on this Friday eve. To ponder if not offer up something worthwhile to this world. Another year of school has began and the next three months are going to be filled with chaos and sleep deprivation - yet it is refreshing. "Refreshing Sleep Deprivaiton" - Life is an oxymoron at the moment. The power went off at work yesterday for almost three hours. I had buckets of ice going in every single cooler to try to keep the milk from expiring and the cakes from dieing. Ironically the "Death By Chocolate" almost met its' own predestined fate that afternoon. Needless to say business came to a halt except for one single customer. It was just myself and him for two and a half hours together. The blackout seemed to take on a full moon effect apparently and he absolutely lost it on me. He reminisced about horrible things that happened in his past - that his present sadness was infinite - and that everyone was out to get him. Even me perhaps? I had to ask him to stop after it got to be too intense - I'm afraid even I understand that therapists make more then minimum wage, and my services were definitely not for sale. The magic of coffee shops eh? Of blackouts and caffiene. "Slidin... Slidin'... Slidin'..."