Today I woke up thinking of Abel and David and Norma and Trudy and Mando. Part of me still thought I got to go back to court today and got to see the whole gang again. Then I remembered we gave our verdict yesterday, and we've all gone our own separate ways again. I really hope I don't lose touch with these people; they're really great. Because of their company this past week I now feel more relaxed and confident about facing life at UPS, with Alexis at home. It's not so bad, I tell myself, but that doesn't keep my stomach from flopping over once in my abdominal cavity. Just a small flop, but hey, can't change overnight, now can I? I still hate my job, at least for the most part, even if I've managed to convince myself I can rough it out now. If there's one thing I agree with Aaron on, it's this: fuck the extra pay, I'm taking my vacations this year. It just ain't worth it, that extra check at the end of the year. Not significant enough to count, my peace of mind is much more precious. Right now I'm waiting for my food to digest and my gut ain't helping. It's doing this sqeezing thing to my food that threatens to hurl it back up the way it came.

And that's what I usually do, when I'm anxious about something: I wait. I did that all the time back in Penncro; get ready extra-fast so I'd be done at least an hour and a half before my start time... and then I'd just wait. Wait at my computer desk, or on my bed, or in my car, but just wait while my stomach did these flimsy little jittery flips and flops, threatening to eject whatever I had consumed during the day. There were days back then that I would throw up, out of sheer nerves. All of a sudden I'd feel sick, and I'd run to the bathroom. It's not so bad now, but then again, as I've always said, UPS on its worst day still beats Penncro on its best. But I still hate waiting, and I get pissed at myself for not being able to successfully distract myself to make the time go by faster. Right now, it's not helping that the house is quiet. 'Ama's asleep with a fever (she's not going to her night job), and Pifas's honked off on the couch in the dining room. Shit, I don't even have Alexis's stupid animae blaring from the TV in their room to distract me because the fucker finally decided to get his ass a job. Hopefully that means he and the Dud will be moving out soon. Then at least I'll have some form of relief.