three in the morning productions

tip off

I feel smug satisfaction in the heaviness over the way my eyes, shuts and opens like peeling onions with a severed distance. In a total of fours hours today, I only had two tables, but one was a nine-seater that took most of my attention and brown-nosing energy. I actually had today off and was going to spend it with Margaret but I got the call to work last night and was more than happy to accept the extra hours. I don't really need the money, as I claim, but I like to carry on with the image of an overworked, schedule-packing teenager. Which is even better because I'm now reading Nickel And Dimed by Barbara Ehrenreich, "On (not) getting by in America"--essentially, a work that reveals lving life on minimum wage.

I am really tired. I'll probably read and then head to bed early tonight. Now don't get cross with me because of how choppy and sparse my entries have been these past few months. I feel myself coming out of the introspective word-drought I've been on. It's not that I never have anything to say. It's more to do with a lack of desire to tell-all. Just with that, I already feel as if I've said too much. Which makes very little to no sense as this ~is~ a diary. But yes, anyway, that will be all. I'm off for now.

06.23.03 - 9:42 p.m.

	tip off I feel smug satisfaction in the heaviness over the way my eyes, shuts and opens like peeling onions with a severed distance. In a total of fours hours today, I only had two tables, but one was a nine-seater that took most of my attention and brown-nosing energy. I actually had today off and was going to spend it with Margaret but I got the call to work last night and was more than happy to accept the extra hours. I don't really need the money, as I claim, but I like to carry on with the image of an overworked, schedule-packing teenager. Which is even better because I'm now reading Nickel And Dimed by Barbara Ehrenreich, "On (not) getting by in America"--essentially, a work that reveals lving life on minimum wage. I am really tired. I'll probably read and then head to bed early tonight. Now don't get cross with me because of how choppy and sparse my entries have been these past few months. I feel myself coming out of the introspective word-drought I've been on. It's not that I never have anything to say. It's more to do with a lack of desire to tell-all. Just with that, I already feel as if I've said too much. Which makes very little to no sense as this ~is~ a diary. But yes, anyway, that will be all. I'm off for now. 06.23.03 - 9:42 p.m.