  Restless. Working hard not to cultivate a direction to my energy, hoping it slows down as the beer and pain pill wears on but its not working. A tiny amount of sleep last night and a big day spilling my guts in a therapy session that may or may not turn out to work for me. A super-charged workout to pour off the excess that did little more than stir the fire. I should sleep.
At least theres Demi Moore on Letterman to lull me to sleep with visions of Claudia-like loveliness. Theres always imaginary connectedness to ease distress. God that husky voice and her luscious hair. Fake tits, no good. But that jaw linethose eyes. So Claudia. Im moving to Idaho. Or trying to move on, I dont know. Will I be able to rest up enough to get myself to class tomorrow? Can I manage being anywhere but in the safety of a school classroom? Today was difficult, running the gamut from solitary screams to myself, scurrying around with infinitely increasing fervour complicating my multi-taking frenzy to sitting in a poorly decorated office with a woman barely older than me wishing I had something sharp in my hand to break the tension. Maybe the fact that this therapist is so close in age, itll quell the tendency to assume patterns of projection onto an older, good-looking woman.
I hope she can keep up with me and this doesnt become another running commentary, a solo project like this blog. God damn, Demi is stunning. I could just lick her raw. Good, hes making her answer questions about her little man boyfriend. Whos beautiful like a girl, but still sour grapes. I cant wait until Im 30 or am I switching my mantra now to 40? Alright, alright! Watching the latest episode of Out of Order tonight peaked my interest for taking ecstacy, missing that wonderful loving connectedness you feel with the grass under your feet and just about anything tangible that will allow you to touch it for an hour or longer.
And interested in getting a full nights sleep. Its dramatised, I know. But its hitting close to home to see someone (the only other model I have to bounce this diagnosis off of) blunder through bipolar disorder. And then theres Justine Bateman on the show, high on E with Felicity Huffman and they didnt even kiss each other!! What the hell?! Throw me a bone I can chew on, folks! Are some people really that sexually circumscribed that they wouldnt even make love to someone of the same/opposite sex under special circumstances? These things are beyond me. Theres a boy who agrees with me asking me to meet him for a drink on Wednesday. And yes, Ive already slept with him. Doesnt mean were involved. Does mean I need to be clear once more about my position. the last thing I want is to hurt someone sweet. Albeit someone who deserves a smack for his foul-up a few months ago.
I forgive. Neko Case showed up on Letterman last week and I have it on tape. When I get a sex drive again after the Zoloft, Ill consider it erotic fodder I can use. Shit. I have to be in class in 11 hours. Ill need at least 15 to catch up with sleep. ?? Fingers crossed. An internet connection by the morning to post this. Thanks for checking in! Apologies for the hiatus. 
