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2:58 p.m. - January 02, 2005
Writing some but watching more television than producing sentences. The Surreal Life on VH1, Robin Hood on HBO, a horrid version of The Scarlet Letter on Showtime. Quickly I am catching up on pop culture: Bring on the Trivia challenge!

Tomorrow I am back to work, three full days in court. Higher rates went into effect January 1, and mileage upped from .40 per to .50. The mileage increase translates into a tax-deduction headache since the IRS is still pegged at .375 (which works out to paying $1.17 for a gallon of gas, and who's paid that recently?). Gripe, groan, indulge in bourgeois suburban guilt but I'm not about to charge less.

Message from Jon: He understands and is a nicer guy than I give him credit for. Perhaps that is true, and more perhaps I run away faster without looking back just to feel motion in my legs. Interesting thought to wonder if my fears and worries have taken a life of their own aside from the ones in my head: Don't I want intimacy? And when someone says he will be patient and is willing to meet me where I am, why do I dread such an encounter? My body might say yes but my mind says no, and neither talk to my heart. Or is it my body says no but heart and mind say yes? Or body yes, mind no, heart yes? Or body no, mind yes, heart no? Or body no, mind no, heart yes? Or body yes, mind yes, heart no? I have tired of touching myself.


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