At work with not much to do. I could finish all the more not-even-so-pressing stuff in a half hour, I bet. Not too bad. I'm getting paid well. Still, it's boring and not very rewarding. Perfect for a summer job, actually.
It's the summer and last night, while making dinner, I started to get stressed out, like I don't have enough summer time to do all the fun things I want to do. You know it's bad when you can't even relax about relaxing.
Then, there's the welling up in my chest. What does it feel like...like heated air pushing through an invisible, thin-skinned balloon, with microscopic holes all over. The air pressure is just enough to keep the balloon in shape, but it's hard to say how far the air reaches. Where's it going? Who knows. Again, there's this whole feeling of wanting to contain it. I need things to sit neatly in perfectly-defined geometric figures. Like those shapes I could fit into this ball, as a kid---a 'match the shape' toy. Ain't that just the trouble though...there's no shape. And even if there were, it sure don't fit nuthin'.
Ok, back to work, the big guy coming back soon, not that he'd even care. I once spent at least an hour on a long distance call from a friend (she paid). I apologized and he said, "Don't apologize to me." Ok, then, I won't.
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