Time

Time has reached a new height of slow. Weeks have been magically converted into fortnights, and one day averages about three (don't ask me how that works, I'm not entirely sure myself). The weeks are so long that when the weekend (read: Sat morning) arrives, I'm not entirely sure that I'm not delusional, and seriously consider packing a lunch, dressing for work, and getting in my car to commute.
On the other hand, weekends are like beautiful, sparkling glass beads on a string of pretty, but plain, wooden ones. They have events and friends, and allow me to do things I actually want to do and enjoy doing. It's amazing, truly.
In other news, it's been a week now since I talked to my fCA, which is more than ever since we started talking, really. And that's difficult. But the next week will be more difficult still, I think. I might start to wonder if I'm not hallucinating again...
Truly, it is a summer for doubting my senses. :P
I'm also starting to be glad to be home. Kind of. At least, I'm trying very hard to appreciate and remember how much I really do love the people who live here. They're the only ones who've been with me (brace yourselves, here comes a cliche) through thick and thin, and who are ALWAYS around, no matter where I live. Seriously, that is a pretty major thing, that they're still around.
Anyways. I'm gonna go collapse on my bed now, and let the past week drain from my brain; but not before marking all of its days with a little mental check for completion. One more week of "psychological warfare" (to use A.'s term for our current employment) overcome.
over 'n out.
E.O.