Another 5 AM Friday at work.

I don't need a newspaper to tell me that the Blue Angels are in town; yesterday they were zooming over the city and would shake the house. Then, at work, they screamed over the building again and again and...again.

That lady smelled like gasoline...did she bicycle here, through the exhaust of cars? (Exhausted by exhaust?)

I worked until close last night; it feels as if I never left this building, since I am here so early. Amy is nuts; she told me to call her when I clocked in this morning so I wouldn't be on my own.

{That girl has very well-developed thigh mucsles. She must be a cyclist...or a regular in the spin classes.}

Yesterday I started reading George Harrison's biography I, Me, Mine. It is quite fascinating; he is now even more my favorite Beatle. I am probably the only person who picked up a book about one of the Beatles because of the introduction. "This book is dedicated to gardeners everywhere." George was a very good and enthusiastic gardener, and he sort of made Ravi Shankar known to the world. Also, it sounds like he had a similar sense of humor to my own; he was a producer for Life of Brian and a very close friend of Eric Idle.

{Whoa! That dude looks just like Fred Willard!}

They must have turned on the heat in here; it smells like burnt hair.

We are what we eat?

Something is wrong with me.  I have become very obsessed with food.  I do not know if it has something to do with the fact that I work at a health food grocery or if it has something to do with not having money to buy what I want, when I want.

Either way, I hate that I keep spinning my mental wheels on something so trivial and ordinary and... unenlightening.  Can I not think of something more important?  

It has gotten so bad that I find myself getting excited about the grocery mailers that come in the mail.  (I know that they arrive every Tuesday.)  I pour over them and make imaginary lists, then compare between stores.  Then I throw it all in the recycling bin, because the lists are always so expansive that I could never afford them.  They also seem wasteful some how.  I get frustrated when I am working the checkout and someone (usually mothers, I'll wager) come through and get seven to ten bags of food.  Does anyone really NEED all of that?  I have never been a mother, so I don't know.  My dog only eats one thing.  (Dog food)

I also hate that I do this because I finally got back down to my driver's license weight, kind of without trying.  It was at a time when money was extremely tight and I had to ration what I had.  Sometimes I made the free samples at the store into a meal.  At that time though, I drank tons of water, took vitamins, and rarely thought about food.  I even cut out dinner some, and it was great.  I felt wonderful.  Now all of a sudden, I have this obsession, and I have no idea from whence it came.

Is there such a thing as online therapy?  I would like to get back to thinking of more important things, like spirituality, inner peace, writing snailmail letters to people, or horses.

Criminy, I need help.