2004-02-25 - 12:54 a.m.

The transplants are screaming in my ears, turned up high enough to make my Bose headset pop, threatening nerve damaged.

And my feet don’t stop moving.

I've been really fucking stressed at work, and there is really no reason for it. The day to day grind is wearing me down, making me feel like mill for some multinational grist. If I weren't so worn out when I got back home from work, I'd work on a book or look for another job, or something. I can't even talk about it; it pisses me off so much.

I hate talking about work, but it dominates my life so much. Goddamn.

On top of that, because my little brother and his roommate are fucking retards, I have to help my little brother move this weekend. Of course, this is coincidently the same weekend my father cannot help him because my folks are going to Costa Rica on Sunday. Guess who gets to drive them to the airport at 5 in the morning on Sunday.

Well, at least they are flying out of TF Green.

Li'l Bro, and Sketchy the Roommate apparently got drunk and Sketchy (I am told, second hand by my mother, who would clearly believe Li'l Bro) said an unkind word to my brother. After refusing to retract his comment, the two got into a scuffle and Evan (that's Li'l Bro, for those of you who can keep up) said he was leaving the apartment. So I get to help him move. Not only that, but because Evan doesn’t have a valid license, I have to drive too. Fantastic. The 'rents put the pressure on me to be my brother's keeper here, and I was looking forward to a nice, quiet weekend.

With any luck, we wouldn't be lifting box springs up the outside of three-deckers.

Looking up: Sleater-Kinney will be on tour this spring.

School is keeping me busy, but in a good way. I'm learning a lot of shit and the classes I am taking are really making me think. I just wish my days weren't so damn long. At work at 8:30, home at 9. Doesn't leave much time for socializing, I am afraid.

Tomorrow, Wednesday, (really, I guess that it today at this point) I don't think I will make it to SPEAK, 'cause I gotta go to the library and book up. Sorry.

I swapped the transplants out for Placebo, namely the half-dozen versions of Pure Morning I have. This song spreads out like a surreal landscape.

Lately, I have been listening to so much NPR that I have forgotten how much I love rock and roll. In my CD player now: Flogging Molly.

Whatever, I am sick of bitching. Bye.

-Jesse