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Alida: A 23-year-old Canadian exploring the infinite abyss that is New York City.

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recent posts

Uncle Richard, me, and James Earl Jones - Tuesday, Apr. 04, 2006
So beautiful when the boy smiles - Sunday, Apr. 02, 2006
One way or another - Sunday, Dec. 25, 2005
Way up high - Saturday, Dec. 10, 2005
Reason to start over new - Friday, Dec. 09, 2005

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2005: January February March April May June July August September
2004: January February March April May June July August September October November December
2003: January February March April May June July August September October November December
2002: January February March April May June July August September October November December
2001: May June July August September October November December

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I must have been not feeling well last night, because apparently I thrashed. I woke up this morning (after not being able to fall asleep, and having to take a gravol to get me there) with most of my blankets on the floor and my fitted bottom sheet taken off. Gravol does that to me. My sleep gets really restless, and if I can remember them, my dreams are really strange.

I've been having weird dreams lately, though. Strange dreams about certain people in particular, especially.

My eyelids feel like they're lined with sandpaper, and it's only 6:15. The rest of the week doesn't get much better, I'm afraid. Tomorrow's shift keeps getting longer and longer. First it was 7 hours, then 8.5, now 9.5, so we'll see how long it actually ends up being by the time I work it.

But on the plus side, I did get to go for coffee with Chels this morning. As hectic as my life gets, there's always time to spend with friends. I can fit the most important things in somehow--they wouldn't be priorities if I couldn't.

And speaking of priorities... I have a production meeting tonight, so I should run. It's scheduled to go from 7-10, but I'm really hoping that we're finished by 9. An earlier evening would be a blessing.

One year ago today: My life is so... I don't know. It's not boring. It's not bad. It's not depressing. It's busy, but it's good. It's just overwhelming sometimes. People will ask what I'm doing with myself, and when I tell them, it startles even me. I don't realize that I'm doing so much until I set it all out and talk about it.
infinite || abyss