Work was well, endless. One of the perks of working at the register in the children's department is the large amount of goofy toys and other impulse crap around the register. For a while it was sneakers with wheels on the bottom. Roller sneakers, if you will. Then it was those plastic recorders. Now it's these talking, singing, pony's heads on sticks. How kids find these things amusing, I have no idea. I think it's pretty scary. Well for 7 1/2 hours I was entertained by children methodically pressing the ears of every pony in the box, making them all sing at once. Don't get me wrong, there are few things more entertaining than musical toys. On the rare occasion I can actually sucker someone into taking me to Walmart, I can find endless hours of entertainment in the toy aisle. But the toy aisle in Walmart is generally separate from the cashier area. So you don't annoy the cashiers. Generally you don't annoy anyone, except the occasional grumpy-looking stock person. But my point is, these things are annoying when they're the only musical toys and they're ten feet away from one poor little Sears cashier. Although maybe this is my punishment for those hours of late night Walmart fun.... So do you see what college does to you? It fries your brain, until you are left with a useless degree, a stupid job, and the ability to be easily amused by musical toys. Just not pony's heads on sticks and not for 7 1/2 hours straight!!!!!

Have I mentioned they've started playing Christmas music in the old mally-mall? It's only the middle of November...

It's the middle of November! And I don't have a clue about anything. I'm trying really hard to think positively but so often I find myself at work standing there thinking everything feels so gray and empty. Just... blah. I need to go to grad school. I really do. But my brain can't take it anymore. Being the perfect, quiet little girl, standing in the corner but yet having life hold my hand, only worked for so long. Yeah. That state of blissful comfort is very much over.

I don't know. I tried very hard to practice last night, but instead I put on the CD of my senior recital. I have no clue why, because listening to that depresses me every time. Not so much because it was a bad recital. I could have played those pieces so much better, true, but that day was just fairly awful in the history of days. It was just a really bad day. And what's worse, judging from how much I've let my playing slide since June when I had those two gigs, I know now that as imperfect as that recital was, I couldn't play those pieces half as well today. And this recital was in April of this year, mind you. My future flute teacher seems to think I'm spending all this time practicing six hours a day, and yet working a wonderful job, so as to save up enough money to buy a decent flute that I so desperately need. She thinks I'll be ready to begin my academic career as a master's student in flute performance in January. And I don't. I've lost that faith in myself. I'm scared too. I guess I'm still expecting life to hold my hand, wherever I go.

Blah. I need a hug. Or some pie. Maybe something else. I just wish I knew, anymore. Tomorrow I only work 1:30-5:15, so I'll have plenty of time to get some good practicing done. And I finally get a Thursday night free to watch "Friends"! :-P I need things to look forward too. What I want more than anything is to go on a random late night jaunt anywhere. Even to the toy aisle in Walmart. But I sit here, begging for the comfort and reassurance that just won't come. People have lives. I don't. It's that simple.

Wow. I'm so sorry to bore everyone with all this mopeyness. If anyone actually read far enough to get to this apology, that is! Please, if you have the means, go out and have fun, for me. I'm having one of those "I feel like being drunk but I have no desire to drink" moments. I am very much going to shut up now. Thank you, and goodnight. *Note, 12:03 PM* Why is it the only people I can convince to apply for Sears cards don't speak English? Granted I don't have a clue what I'm saying, but yet they don't have a clue what I'm saying. This disturbs me. Stupid Sears cards. Bah.

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