Friday, January 09, 2004


dick wolf? can you hear me?

it was perfectly fine, and i cried a little. it was a day of remembering how to care how the phone gets answered and the messages taken. eight hours measured in office jokes and shifting in my chair felt pretty much like it felt when i was twenty two.

if i'm upset, it's only because i remember how it felt to spend more time in the stupddesk than it does with anyone you love, or doing anything that brings blood to your brain. not having class or rehearsal or a workshop after the day job will kill, but having entire days full except for the ten-to-seven sleeping time makes me sort of weary and sad. saturday and sunday become the only respite, if there aren't rehearsals you're not getting paid for, and because it's the only window you've got for laundry, shopping, sleeping, cleaning. or maybe you can't bring yourself to do anything necessary because the week was about lots of other people and all you want to do is be irresponsible.

if it kills, i suppose i can find something else. i'm trying not to be sad that i found a job--it's not a bad thing. it's just . . . when i wasn't this "assistant," i felt like i was other things, too. and now i'm just a smart girl who turned into a secretary.


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