tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243343652011-04-21T10:47:46.562-07:00sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04127576756696497711noreply@blogger.comBlogger11100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24334365.post-1142750650265696432006-03-18T22:23:00.000-08:002006-03-18T22:45:28.856-08:00<span style="color:#990000;">It's 1:30 in the morning and I am stuck at work. I'll be here until 4 a.m., when I will head home and(hopefully) go straight to bed. The 6 peanut butter tag-a-longs I ate were supposed to perk me up but instead have given me a raw, gnawing, rusty gear grinding sort of energy. I wanna go to sleep, but everytime I start to, the phone beside me rings(about once every 4 minutes or so: just enough to make you wanna smack the caller in the jaw for interrupting whatever diversionary tactic you are using to pass the time: letting tetris hypnotize you, fitting blocks and fitting more blocks, and, wow, look at that, three in a row, and reading people go off on craig's list like dave chappell pointing out the obvious stuff that we didn't realize made others want to shoot themselves in the head like it does us, and diversion after diversion, until it's time to go home. </span><br /><span style="color:#990000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#990000;">My feet itch. </span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24334365-114275065026569643?l=sarasspot-sara.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04127576756696497711noreply@blogger.com4