I just ate cheesesticks and too many slices. My gut feels like a cesspool.

I didn't bother counting the hours. I didn't think until the hours made sense. I didn't sleep yesterday, day before that was sporadic...and it'll be another day before I get to sleep. It' s been only a bit over 24 hours now. 1/3 of the way to psychosis. It'd be a trip seeing the dead selling Avon products in the middle of my presentation.

World is hazy, people are doing something. It's Safer Sex night. Scantily clad gents and women gyrating against one another in the streets. Life, sex, skin. I can practically taste the sweat, sensuous little rivulets raping my senses. Feigned innocence, pouty little red lips; guaranteed slavery in those hands. A few tried to catch my attention, looked concerned. Didn't even bother. People don't understand my work.

I took a look in the mirror. My left eye is having trouble opening, right seems a bit strained. The lines of red remind me of fibre-optic cables, all along the tunnels and earth of a thousand cities communing with the glory of instants. My eyes scare me sometimes. Too sharp, too focused, glassy, like some fanatic drug addict. Then again, this lifestyle is my drug of choice. I can still read clearly, comprehend the words. I'm good to go.

I'm not exhausted. I should be, but I have a stronger will than that. I have to stay awake for the entire car trip. 7 hours trying to read, looking half-dead so I can get everything done with before we arrive.

The days are packed from 7am 'til 10pm. According to my director, I'm required to engage in everything, even the recreational stuff. She smiled at that one. Everyone always thinks they're doing me a fucking favor by arranging things to "help me out." May even stick me with a roommate, so I can't study in the room. I'll study by the goddamn hotel pool all night if necessary. Good intentions won't stop me from doing my job.

Now I need to shower, shave, pack, appear normal just 5 hours from now. Smiling, handshakes, buffets, doctors all around; sounds swell and fiendishly boring as all hell. I wonder what they'll think of me: thinning hair, business cards, I have the ear marks already. This is my opportunity to make a few contacts with admissions boards, maybe find a company or two to work for.

I won't be writing anything until monday, but you'll get the details. Until then wish me luck in getting things done. It'll be a challenge.

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