another kind of me

saturday, february 21, 1998, 03:38 What exactly am I supposed to do? He looks over, with that forlorn look in his eyes, looking like his puppy just died, and tells me that he's going to watch a movie? Am I supposed to ask him what happened? Why she isn't here any more and why, at almost four in the morning he's going to pop a movie in? I'm sorry. I may be a bad friend, but tonight just isn't a night when I can deal with it. I've actually had a fairly good night. So I instead close my door and start writing. The day was spent in classes, my eyes half closed, my brain half off. A result of bad sleep and late-night shifts in the lab, i have no doubt. Regardless, at about four, I ended up falling asleep on the couch, to awaken almost an hour later to notice that there were significantly more lights on in the suite than when I had fallen asleep, and I realized that one of my roommates was back. And I had no recollection at all of the conversation that we allegedly had when he got in. (i later did remember this conversation, but it was scary there for a while not remembering him getting in and us talking.) After than, it was off to the theatre, then back home for another quick nap, then off to another theatre for a night of fun with a bunch of bands from around campus. Really an exciting night, even though I had to deal with a roomfull of stupid people who really couldn't figure out that if they leaned against a big pole that moved when they leaned against it, and that this pole that they were touching had big heavy lights on that they should not touch this pole. This concept seemed alien to all but three people in the crowd. And there I was, having fun, but worrying in the back of my mind/pit of my stomach that there would be a lot of explaining to do if the cops ever showed up, what with the over-capacity crowd and the underaged drinking and the fact that we weren't checking student ids. I mean, there wasn't going to be a problem. Clearly. But it's my job to be worried, and it's my personality to be a control freak. I really question a lot of people who got into this school and why they didn't have to take a real world "i'm not a dumbass" exam. Of course, being up this late when I have to be up again tomorrow to head over to the theatre to set up the second night in our nine night arts festival could also constitute "dumbass" so I probably have no right to complain. up one | mail | sun | thu | fri