Begin again.

I am running on about four hours of sleep and twenty-five gallons of
various caffeinated beverages. That's counting the whole week by the
way.

I took a midterm today, I think. I finished with forty minutes to
spare. I called my mom afterwords and told her I was nervous about it.
I then went to a discussion session and didn't say a word. The boy
that sat next to me bobbed his head in rhythm with the strokes of the
pen in his left hand. My hair is greasy because I forgot to wash it in
the shower. My pants are too short and I am wearing a pink shirt. This
is so not good.

A boy and I went to dinner last night. We drove down my most favorite
street until we found something that seemed agreeable. We ate
sandwiches. They got our order wrong, twice and then they served them
warm. Partially melted goat cheese is messy. I wore a dirty sweatshirt
and kept the hood on the entire time. He pretended to like me anyhow.
We talked about all of our silly friends who are getting married and
having children and how stupid they are.

We went home and stared lustfully into one anothers eyes and fell
asleep in a tangled mess of an unmade bed, except I didn't sleep. I
made stories up in my head. I wondered how he slept that way, with his
arms wrapped all about. I wondered what he dreamt about. I watched the
sun slowly rise through the slivers between the broken blinds.

I ordered lunch at my favorite sandwich shop today and the boy that
worked there told me how he got hit by a car and how his shoulder got
dislocated and how this all happened yesterday and he is at work
today. He made me the wrong sandwich, with one arm. It took fifteen
minutes. And then I told him it was wrong, all wrong.