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thursday, february 5, 1998, 05:01 Cold air coming through my half open window. They Might Be Giants playing out in the common room. A suitemate who should be asleep. And me. Sitting here, having just consumed a bit too much Coke for the evening and after having had to deal with a whole mess of theatre stuffs at work tonight in the lab when I was hoping to read Hamlet for that Shakespeare. Not that I was really expecting to get any work done anyway. So I've been thinking about what I said yesterday, and I realize that the problem right now is that I just don't have enough drama in my life, so I have to stir things up a bit for myself. That's not to say that I really don't feel empty sometimes, or that sometimes I don't long for someone to hold, or for just some good conversation. What it does mean is that sometimes I take myself way too seriously. I mean, hey. I'm going ice skating tomorrow. Doesn't get much better than that...
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