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2003-10-17 - 11:43 p.m.

I made a promise with myself that if I go to Quaker meeting most of the Sundays between now and the end of the year, that I will join the Cambridge friends. I keep looking for ways out of the deal. This weekend is the head of the Charles and I've convinced myself I don't want to deal with traffic issues.

I think the truth is much closer to the fact that I'm still pissed off at God over 9/11. Well. 9/11 and the Iraqi war and Johnny Cash's death. And. And I found out this week that a guy. I don't even know how to say this. One of my readers. This guy who always sent a little email. Always had a kind word. Always offered support or a joke or just a word. Passed away. He actually passed away right around the 9/11 anniversary. Which puts it right around the time that Johnny Cash died as well.


I'm pissed off.

At God.

I don't know if anyone's told this to God or not. I know I haven't. I've been pretty tight-lipped about it. In fact, I realize that I'm doing to God what I do to most things or situations or people when I'm pissed off. Which is I pretend they don't exist.

I'm pissed off at God, pretending he doesn't exist. All of which I think makes me a faux atheist. Which isn't really funny at all. For me.

I'm tired and I'm cranky and I'm pissed at God. I need to buy some new shirts because I never have anything to wear to work. I embarrass myself with my wardrobe. Four out of five workdays, I walk into work muttering to myself, "thank god you're not wearing this in Manhattan." I have perfected the art of beating myself up. I'm ok with that.

I got the proofs of the book today. This thing is actually going to happen. It actually looks like a book. It's pretty amazing.

Well. That and I like to type.

I mean I really like to type. I type a lot. And very quickly. The last time I clocked it, I typed 92 wpm. That's huge. My mother was a typing teacher while she was pregnant with me. I figure I learned it in the womb.

I'm ok with that.


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