I can't aim my restlessness in the right direction. Right now, somewhere downtown, the Captain and George are discussing me, and it makes me uneasy. I'm wait, wait, waiting for Sam to call and tell me where to be, hoping he remembers about Francis. In the meanwhile someone is cooking fish and I can smell it, and you shouldn't have to smell the fish of others.

My text messages are always too long, and I don't know how to send them in two parts like it tells me to, and that's ridiculous anyway. Who sends text messages in paragraphs? In the end words have to be subtracted, but I think that when I mean something I make every word count too much, but at least they probably only count to me. To everyone else it's probably, "Gee, how can someone be so vague with this many words?" I sent a message earlier, and it started, "Dang!" and that was nearly enough. One day I'll learn concision, I'll sleep twenty-three hours a day, and during my waking hour I'll speak to everyone I know. To each I'll only say, "Dang!" and it will be nearly enough. I'm really getting a kick out of the word dang today.

I have a hangover-quality headache, but I haven't had a drink since Sunday. Too many hours in a too dark room. Too much time thinking, "What will I do?" A shower and a cup of tea will make everything aces, and there's just enough time. Tonight will be a nice time, everywhere, for everyone.

p.s. Right in the middle I got your message, and that's weird, isn't it? Be happy! You're young and it's summertime and your life is brand new again.