never! say! never!

amid the general clusterfuckery of last sunday, one of the receptionists came to the icu cackling. she was in the process of faxing this client's record to their regular dvm...

yesterday was fucking cold. i walked around for a while. the sun was sporadic and glaring- white light, no heat.

but the sunset was attractive.

downtown seattle, molesting. this was an awkward photo to take. people were striding by in business attire; i was That Person sticking my fucking fingers in orifi. i smiled blankly. maybe they assumed i was doing a pretentious art project and not just being fucking creepy...

i am still in a grey mood. it's very annoying. i took a nap today, dreamlessly. went to sushi with s. stared out windows. shivered. but i did notice this at a bus stop near seattle center:

this made me feel quite nice.
i left c's after midnight last night. he was too tired to give me a ride so i was unexpectedly on fucking aurora and 90th, waiting for a bus that took its sweet fucking time coming. a posse of urban wildlife -raccoons?- ran back and forth across the empty highway. if there wasn't another woman at the bus stop, elderly and glaring at me through her clouds of cigarette smoke, i would have been a lot more paranoid. this way, i was mostly just cold. i kept my headphones on. seattle is a different world at night- every place is, i suppose. all the 'good' people hide and those who are up to nefarious deeds skulk out of the shadows. i know why i'm in a sketchy neighborhood at an impractical hour... but why are you?
*
it breaks my heart a wee bit, but i cannot do the atelier. i am supposed to tour the studios tomorrow morning, but i'm going to cancel. i cannot pretend that something awesome is going to happen between now and september that would facilitate me spending 35 hours a week on art and still be able to support myself. this pisses me off. i feel fucking trapped in my current life, again, still.
c is most likely getting laid off in september. "i'm really scared" he said. he said that he's gotten used to his current lifestyle- of not having to worry- and to not have the security of income is equivalent to regression.
there aren't other options. i whored around the fucking new orleans craigslist before i started writing this- my at-least-weekly visitation- looking at apartments. i don't even bother with their employment options- new orleans is a fucking wasteland, and if you do get a job the wages are about half of what one would expect in the northwest. and i really don't want to move. i love seattle, i love the people i know here, i love having my own place in the world. seattle is a hydrant that i have pissed all over. it's MINE. i guess. but there are, to overuse an already disgusting metaphor, other hydrants.

the group on the other side of the high wooden booth, not visible, is eating meat with 'cajun' sauce. it smells amazing. the ambiance: paper wrappers rustling, muted chatter, and "i might like you better if we slept together."