brain puke a la lulu

my mind works very fast sometimes.i have trouble keeping up. i lose focus, you might say. i always carry paper and pencil. i have to write things down sometimes as i think of them. students claim i ignore them as they yell my name and i look past them, mark says i do the same when i drive. i block out noise and yet other times the littlest noise distracts me. i don't sit still very well. that scares me about going back to school. sitting through class was tortuous, sometimes. especially with fluorescent lights blaring overhead. i know i can do this. i have confidence. i am aware of my shortcomings. i am inspired by dylan. i see him facing obstacles far greater than mine, and he succeeds. he is now reading and writing. he can make macaroni and cheese, too. (w/ a little help) i got my hastings ap in the mail today. i have already filled it out on-line. i read it (and the other apps) over nearly every day. i need to refine a few of the supplementary questions..and have $70. i read the catalogue again. i'm okay if i don't get in there. in fact, i will wet my pants, if i do. the good way. speaking of that , mark asked me if i had eggs, and i replied, "no, but i'm going to the store." he then said,, "no, YOUR eggs, do you have any left?". "yes, dear, you are the one who can no longer pro-create.", I said. Apparently, he heard a story on NPR about someone offering $5,000 for eggs donated for research. hell, it's what i do best. sign me up.we could use the money. yes, we are broke. and it's starting to lose it's edge. you know, the whole romantic idea of us against the man. living on love and idealism. we chose professions that allow us to spend time together- and with the kids- we are helping the community- we are enriching lives, etc... yeah, well mark now has a second job and my crazy kids keep eating and growing...so bottom line, i'm not digging it. why can't we all barter?, or something. money (the lack of it) sucks, really. the things that we value in society, actors, athletes...sorry. off the soap box, gretchen. okay. so i'm going out w/ sarah tonight. she's sans enfants and wants to get out. i don't blame her. her friend is leaving soon for iraq. damn war. any way, she's gonna be my sugar daddy. nice. looking at this screen, i see these word and i wonder do i really have anything to say? probably not. it was like vomiting words, i couldn't stop it. congratulations. you made it to the end of this post. that felt good.a beer sounds pretty good, eh?
g