saint-louise's Diaryland Diary
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Freakin' in the purple haze with a flyin' hippo.
I just had a pretty bad freak-out when I thought about my math class that starts tonight.
I maintained an appearance of normalness (it's a word because I said so), though, which was good, since I'm still at work.
I just sat with my hand to my forehead, looking, I'm sure, deep in thought and alluringly pensive.
Inside my brain, there were people clutching at their faces and screaming wordlessly. There was also a fair amount of psychedelic colors pulsing in the background. And probably some guys on unicycles, carrying pizzas. And a talking dog named "Frederick." And a clown. Most definitely a clown.
When I was done with my freak-out, I reprimanded my brain for its lack of creativity. Next time I have to surpress the urge to leap up out of my seat, tear off my shirt, and run garbling down the hallway, I expect some originality in my grey matter response.
A clown. What the fuck do I use this damned brain for anyway?
4:44 p.m. - 2003-01-06
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