detox

I'm not supposed to eat sugar. I went to the doctor yesterday because I get headaches every day. We're trying various things to see what the problem is, and one of his temporary solutions was no sugar, not even sugar substitutes. Have you ever realized how much food has sugar in it? Now, I e-mailed him asking him to clarify this matter. Did he mean no sugar whatsoever, or did he mean no items that have a lot of sugar, such as soda, candy, etc? Hopefully, the latter is the answer. Most everything in my pantry and fridge has some sort of sugar count to it. I'm going through withdrawals. I want Coke. Diet anything is an abomination. I also have to take antihistamine, which just about knock me out. I looked like I was dead this morning and probably throughout most of the day. Sugar is my friend. Who cares if it might give me headaches?

It was a rough transition back into the grind this semester. The Thursday of the first week of school, a day I was battling it out to have my review of The 40-Year-Old Virgin run in the paper, I realized that I had only been in the state for a week. One week, and already I had had stories and reviews and assignments and classes and not enough sleep. It took me days to unpack. I'm still behind on all my stories, and I've been writing everything last minute, thus producing less than great pieces. I think I'm finally settling in, but I probably won't rest until Christmas. If anyone wants to contribute to the Sarah-wants-to-visit-Daniel-in-LA fund, donations are welcome.

I don't know about half of the students walking around campus. I definitely feel more removed from everything this year. I'm content to do my work and then go home, and spend weekends at home. I got pretty used to the routine this summer. Ah, the days of high school and freshman year when I wanted to be entertained all the time. I'm fine with a book or movies on TV, apparently. I feel old all of a sudden.

I had gotten so used to my routine this summer. On my last day, I had to carry several bags and a large picture home from the office. I ran out of money on my metro card and had to use the last bit of change I had to pay my fare, meaning I didn't have any left for the bus. I climbed up the steps of the 622 quite disheveled and Ray exclaimed that he was sad it was my last day. He helped me set all my things down and I began to explain to him about not having change. He waved it away and told me not to worry. A man in a grey suit who I'd never seen smiled at me and told me to take care when he got off the bus at his stop. When my stop finally came, he gave me a hug and kissed my cheek and told me to come back and see him. Who knows if he'll be driving the same shift of the Fairfax Connector by the time I return, whenever that will be, but I'll try and find him just the same.