I have been sick/sickish since monday, when I suddenly developed a headache worse than death. On tuesday my face was swollen like my brian was trying escape and I was worried that I was going to have to go to the hospital for a headache. Today I just have the sniffles. Monday and tuesday I spent most of the time in bed.
I made it to the internship yesterday, though. Seems I didn’t miss too much, but I had to plow through a novel we are republishing to check for errors. Recently we’ve been republishing books that were originally published in the 1970s and there aren’t any computer files for said books. So, I get to copy the old books on the copier, and then we scan the files in, and then reformat them for typesetting. But, the line breaks don’t always remain true, so it’s my job to compare the ends of lines in the scanned books to those in the old, published book. Sometimes they just flat out have someone retype the book. I’d rather copy 100 pages any day. The book was one of the nature- writing genre, and though not my usual fancy, it was pretty good. There were only a few line-break changes, and one part where the line began with “ichen” instead of “lichen”. Luckily, and not to brag or anything, but I’m a pretty fast reader.
Saturday is the Book Lovers’ Ball, at which I will be registering board members and silent auctioneers. I’m kind of excited to hobnob with money. But moreover, I’m excited to meet and greet with the people who make it possible to Milkweed to exist. It’s all about who you know, right?

Every day I am so close to asking someone at work if they want to get a drink or something, but I feel so out of place as it is that a simple “no” for any reason, even if it’s a valid one would be a kick in the shins. I tried to set up and man date for Bob with this guy who comes into Spyhouse all the time to read comics named Professor Jay. It was awkward, but he seemed kind of interested. Bob and I can’t just keep making 14 year old Xbox friends forever. Eventually they’ll all turn 16 and realize that we’re not cool just because we’re older.

It’s strange to think back to what I thought, as a young girl of 13, of women who were 26. Even there, when I called them “women,” that’s not how I view myself.

Here’s what I saw today:

Things with wheels

The corner where that silver shoe was is the ultimate party area

Mares eat oats and does eat oats and little lambs eat ivy. Ivy league car wash

Our new rug is a wilder beast

Camping weather, again

True love


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