"This was not the day to come to work stoned."

"Aah! It's scaring me! It's scaring me! Make the bad man stop!"

Today, at work, some people came in whose job it is to go around to various Starbuckses and pass out samples of Frappuccino Blended Beverages. TM. One of these Starbucks minstrels dressed up as a giant cartoon-esque Frappuccino, waved at customers and passed out coupons. It was terrifying, I tell you. Terrifying.

The scariest part is that the "drizzle" on top of the giant blow-up Frappuccino, instead of being caramel or chocolate colored, was red. That's right, it looked like blood. It looked exactly like this giant Frappuccino just ripped the head off of a small child and poured its blood on top of the whipped cream, to make a tasty blood-flavored Frappuccino.

No wonder the small children were screaming. If I was five, I'd have been screaming, too. As it was, I was barely hanging on. When it went outside to the sidewalk, I saw some people who were crossing the street towards the store stop in the middle of the crosswalk and turn right back around again. Why? Was it perhaps because there was a giant walking cartoon Frappuccino with blood on top outside of our store?

I can't imagine that this is an effective marketing tool.

And speaking of blood, I checked the signup sheet, and there are still only three names on the list to give blood next Wednesday.

I am more of a wimp about needles than just about anybody, yet I could not talk my coworkers into signing up. I tried to hit them with statistics, tell them how good it would make them feel, how important it is, how proud the rest of us would be. It's for a children's hospital, for god's sake. I'm sure the children who need blood have to endure a lot more than a 20 minute bloodletting at the hands of the Red Cross. But no dice.

Two big, strong guys. More scared of needles than me. This just destroys my entire concept of the universe.

This morning, I overslept. I was supposed to be at work at 9:30. I woke up at 10:30. Fuck.

Since I knew I probably wouldn't get in trouble (I've done a lot worse-- like not show up at all-- with almost no repercussions) I didn't get hysterical about it. I just called them, told them I'd be in ASAP, and went to work. It didn't seem to faze anyone much at all.

But I'm still bothered by it. Not only because I'd prefer to be on time for work, but because I stayed home last night (flaking on my friend Franka in the process) and went to bed early, and I still couldn't manage to wake up on time.

What is wrong with me? My energy is low, and I still don't feel like being around people. I can't remember the last time I felt one of those flashes of ecstasy that used to come so easily to me. I mean, sure, I was ecstatic last weekend, when I got to see Spinal Tap. And I still love hanging out with people like Abby and Tim. But aside from really close friends or really extraordinary experiences, I find it impossible to be my usual self lately. Don't get me wrong, I had fun at work today and I'm still capable of being happy, but I feel like there's something lacking that I can't quite put my finger on.

Blech.

Am I depressed? Am I not eating well? Do I need to write more? Do I have too much free time? Probably yes, to all those questions.

I tell you, I'm looking forward to having school start up again. A little more structure can only be good for me. And in the meantime, I can get my reader put together for my class. That's turning out to be a lot more work than I had anticipated. But in a good way.

Oh, and in case you're wondering if I'm on drugs or something, I wasn't the person who came to work stoned today. Although maybe I should try that tomorrow.

"It's stress, but it doesn't feel like stress. It feels like restlessness and, at the same time, a desire for isolation."