extra shift

Worked a surprise shift today--it was in Kids, so I didn't mind.  When I work in Kids, half the time I spend straightening I actually spend reading Berenstain Bears books.  Or, a trend that was kicked off recently by Tirzah leaving a book called Bittersweet Sixteen un-recovered, reading catty teenage novels about rich girls at single-sex private schools in New York who have nothing better to do with their time than live in a psuedo-adult world of drinking, sordid sexual experiences (or wishing they were having sordid sexual experiences), and shopping (which can carry on forever, as apparently they have no credit card max).  I try to pretend I am not reading these books, but in actuality if I'm not recovering something left strewn across the floor by three year olds or reading Berenstain Bear books, I am.  Today it was Gossip Girl.

I think I had a bit too much caffeine to drink with the two iced chai things I had--but they're half price, damnit.  In my last hour, I was getting pretty stomach-wobbly, and the sort of trashy but strangely addictive teen novels weren't helping very much.  Ten minutes before I leave, two girls and a guy start browsing in the teen section ("Ooh, there are two new Gossip Girls," I hear as one disappears behind the shelf--eeeh.), and the two left are obviously dating.  In the sort of gosh-we're-smitten-but-we're-in-a-bookstore display of affection way.  I, at this time, feel like a crotchety old woman, as I prepare to leave for home--I realize in that moment that it stems from this: 

Aaah!  I'm so lonely.  I pine for physical affection.  An arm around the shoulders, a casual hug, someone to stroke my hair.

Yay for Friday, because I'm getting a little bit crazy.  On Friday, I shall disappear to Philadelphia and get hugs and kisses... among other things.  :O  I'm only eight hours of work away~ and some fireworks for our nation's birthday celebration, which I will again be watching alone.  With friends.  But sort of alone.

Boo hoo me.

Other than my craving for affection, which is new, nothing much else is new.  I go to work, I sell books, I make my co-workers laugh, we joke around, I get shot with rubber bands.  I gift wrap, I ring up, I sneeze and carry around (fuck, I left it behind in Kids) hand sanitizer.  I zone, I recover, I read snippets of books when I should be shelving.  I dress up, I smile, I love my job.

I miss my boyfriend.

raining

I can hear thunder outside--or fireworks.

I imagine that it's rain and I'm on a train, though.  It's night, and the light in the cabin is dim, and I'm moving across the country with a soft irregular pattering on the window.  It's like being in an egg.  It's transient.  It's secret.  I'm moving in the darkness. 

I'm listening to music--with my eyes open and dark in the light--my feet are curled under me, shoeless. 

They're fireworks--rain doesn't scream.