hummmmm. thomas gave me a datebook ages ago and it went right into my purse because it was pleasing to me, all slim and black and understated. i just began using it as a diary of sorts. each day has just enough space for a few sentences, and i have just enough time in the mornings to sum up the previous day while waiting for my train. i lose so much of what i do because of carelessness and poor memory. it is good to see the days marching back, and it is interesting to see what i pick out of each day as most memorable...
9/10
watched terrible russian vampire movie
9/12
j and s fighting about $. broccoli and tomato omlette. flirting with the subway surfer.
9/15
GIRLTALK sweaty crowded pushing people. enjoyed myself immensely. toenail coming off?

and then i opened it and saw five empty days. spending lots of time with people that you love and hardly ever see is exhausting and all the little necessities fall aside. when i came home tonight after lisa's reading i threw out loads of disgusting rotted veggies and made a dinner of a small head of red lettuce with ginger carrot dressing. work goes by in a daze of heat and stuffle-headedness, i go out, i stumble home, i give sam's cat food and snuggles. clothing piles up on my floor and my perishables melt away in the kitchen. my roommates, when i am around to observe, are entranced by their simms games, watching the little lives of their fictional families, herding them through daily duties or allowing them to be visited by calamities.
at the tediously thorough (but yes, joyful and beautiful) catholic wedding i attended on saturday i was reminded of my favorite part of the lord's prayer. the forgive us our trespasses part creeps me out, but i am always moved and shaken by "and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil." it's the plea of the powerless, a clearly futile hope. it's asking if life could be a little bit easier, even though we know there's no reason to expect it.