There are some things too personal and serious for me to put in this. I enjoy blogging, but this isn't my journal. It's not where I angst. It seems strange to me that it's usually around this time of the year that I need somewhere to angst in. A cycle of some description. Summer when I made my first journal site. Summer when I created eXx. Summer now, and I need a place to put my thoughts in writing.
I don't know why, because it never helped.
So stuff it. They can just stay in my skull, and not be transmitted into the ether where they can be discovered by those with no need to know about them. And I can wish I had a friend with whom I could share them. Wishing for the impossible is something even I do occasionally.
9:08 PM - link to this -
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Oh DOUG, I hate this job. My bar has run out of, in no particular order, change, chardonnay, bitters, kahlua and most of all the patience of the staff. I am just about tearing my hair out and I'm not being paid enough for this.
In other news, we have J2 back. Apparently he went on a roadtrip (not the movie of the same name sort, but the Fear and Loathing sort, or so I gather) with his housemates until the money ran out. Which it did in a big way. He called me from the train station having 15 cents to his name and no way to get home. A lift was found, and he hasn't stopped scabbing our wine or telling stories since. It's good to have him back. The
