space-oddity's Diaryland Diary

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no more work

i hung up and started to have what i now realize was a panic attack but was too panicked at the time to notice.
my heart,
it was racing,
and little waves of, well, not really pain, but more like uneasiness began to pulsate through my body,
starting at the heart
and ending at my fingertips and toes,
only to bounce
and go straight back
into the center of me.

panic attack. that tends to happen when my father calls. yesterday was the first time i had talked to him in about six months, and it was the first time i had seen him in about a year.
i don't really want to get into the technicalities of our relationship right now, but let's just say that every time we meet, we talk about nothing really; we (he) pretend that there's nothing wrong, and at the end, we give each other a cold hug, and he gives me money.
yesterday was no exception, and after a short lunch filled with bland, stupid conversation, there was the cold hug and the slippage of twenty dollar bills from his hand to mine.
that's the spirit, dad! that's the way!
the way to make me feel like a cheap fucking whore.

most of the time i wish i didn't love him.
if only he could understand that money is no substitution for a healthy bond between father and daughter,
but he's a gambling man, and everything has a price.

this is not news.

.
.
.
also, finals suck it.
.
.
.
i should be working right now, but i came home sick because it feels like a fucking skeksis is ripping out my lower abdomen. oh, and look, i'm bleeding, too.

bonus.

last night at work i caught a shop-lifter. i'll tell more about this later.

1:06 pm - Wednesday, Dec. 12, 2001

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