March 18, 1999.  Thursday.
 

  Attention:  Today is Thursday and Mr. Greg is in a very foul mood.

    I don't feel very good at all.  I had a rather frightening series of nightmare last night for the first time in a long time last night.  Rodzilla called around 2am, which ended up being a good thing, coz i was having some sort of weird X-Files dream.  I don't even watch the show.  But all this freaky shit was going on.  Maybe it was the result of drinking a lot right before i fell asleep.  I actually went to bed earlier than normal, but i didn't sleep well at all. When Rodzilla called, I was normal for a few minutes, then a started this crazy rambling. Sometimes I do that when I'm tired.  I start talking to people, in a daze, like they were there in my dream. Then I realize what I'm doing and i feel like a big idiot.  I don't even remember what I said, only that it made absolutely no sense.  But I'm still glad that she called.  Always nice to here from Rodzilla, don'tcha know...
    So no word on grad school yet. At this point, I guess I'm giving up all realistic hope.  If I'd gotten in, I think they'd sent the letter earlier, and sent the rejections to the poor schelps out on the 15th, like they said they would.  It's sorta bumming me out.  BUt I'd rather not think about it. Usually I wait till later in the day for these thoughts to consume me and drive me mad.
    I went home yesterday and started drinking simply because it was St. Patrick's Day.  But I have such a low tolerance for discomfort and taste of most alcohol that i didn't get very far.  Maybe a drink and hour.  Still driving capable, although i had no where to go.  But i do enjoy quiet time to myself.  I did a little drunken rockin' out, thanks to my recent headphone aquisition.  That was actually a lot of fun.  But I may have done serious damamge to my hearing. But that's the chance we rockers take.  I was too lazy to set up the 4-track, but i wish i would've. I was pretty happy with the shit I was coming up with.  I can feel it all slipping away.  Oh well, I'm sure it'll come back to me.  So moving on...
    The only dream that i had last night that wasn't a nightmare, was a dream where i was naked.  Actually, come to think of it, it did turn into a nightmare.  I remember a truck hitting another car and overturning on the road.  I saw the guy in the front passenger seat hit the ground as the truck rolled his way, and the impact broke the window and he fell and and slid across the road.  When he got up, it appeared that he had no hands, only fleshy stumps. But then his hands appeared, but there was still skin hanging offa him.  i think the person was an actor. Maybe somebody from Star Trek or something. I can't really recall.  But it was pretty gruesome. i still felt creeped out in the shower this morning, because i was having all sorts of flashbacks to the dreams.
    My god, could i use a nap.  I guess it's pretty sad when my dreams are so much more interesting than my life.  Oh well.  I guess I'll spend the day worrying about my grad school letter.  Then i can get on with my life, whatever that may be. besides fucking BORING.

    The scenic Blue Ridge Parkway. I think this particular view is call Irish Gap or something like that. Anyway, it's about 10-15 miles outside of Lexington, VA.  The town of Buena Vista lies below, between those two mountains.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Coincidentally, I've noticed that the time here at work moves very rapidly when I'm doing web-geek stuff, whereas it normally crawls along at a snail's pace.
 

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