i think when i am very wealthy i will never make those awful, account-reciting phone calls again. i will have someone else do it. some college student who thinks it's funny that a woman pays to have that done for her. 10 dollars an hour. the friends of this college student will be jealous. he or she will describe me as always wearing sunglasses and never without red lipstick. i'll them scribbled notes and they'll handle my insurance phone calls and ordering and bank accounting. i'll never think of it again. maybe i really just wish someone would pay me to deal with the details of my own life. eh, well, barring that, i'll just shovel responsibility onto someone else with the promise of great riches. i'll pay them in gold boullion and exotic spices.

i leave for new york in two days. i am not ready, really. when am i ever? i have stopped being weepy and mopey around my house. i've decided against it. i'm only going to concentrate on things in front of me. no long distance loves and no past loves and no future loves. just what's going on right now. no one can put a hold on me for the future and i won't make any promises to anyone again. not until i can see more than a week in front of me. and after than, i'll never make those insane, dramatic appeals for forever-and-ever love again. that's such crap is borne of lonliness and need. i'd rather be around someone because i want to and never because i need to or am too frightened to take the world by myself.

and now, more chemistry. and then practice lsats. seriously. and maybe i'll start labeling my grad school file folders. i have a whole big box with FUTURE written across the front that i'm keeping all the important things in. makes me laugh, the absurdity of it. my FUTURE is in this little cardboard box upstairs. sometimes i take it out and organize it. sometimes i ignore it. sometimes i step on it at night when it's dark. sometimes i get mad and hide it from myself in that crawlspace. see? it's true. my future is in a box in my room.