day 25: catharsis

I have nothing to look forward to today. I'm listening to music with headphones that cup my ears, trying to drown out the sound of my tabby cat crying.

Pat's roommate presumably stole a hundred plus dollars in change from him. He's been plotting revenge all day, carefully thinking through words and reactions. I hugged him, held him, somewhere in between. It was lingering but not intended to comfort. He told me he wouldn't be stopping by after work and pushed me away, the heels of his hands against my hips.

I scribbled assignments into my school-issued planner today:

- signed grade slip
- online quiz
- lab report
- reading assignment
- genetics questions
- Sophie's World
- Greek innovation project
- ch. 2 study guide
- one-page free response
- crossword puzzle
- "The Glass of Milk" paper
- Red Poppies

The topic for my project on Greek innovation is cheesecake. I had originally planned on researching tampons, until I discovered that the first tampon was made in Egypt. That ignited an argument about whether or not it's okay to flush tampons, and a boy told us to stop, stop, stop. Boys don't play well with tampons ("I don't trust anything that can bleed for a week and not die"). I don't understand why, either. Boys skid across the pavement and watch blood pool, eyes round and mouths agape. But no one wants to hear about how my period was heavy yesterday, and that I used up tampons and pads like Kleenex and that yesterday's underwear is soaking in cold water and bleach.

I'm going to brush my teeth, call Chance on my silvery cell phone (today's color is blue), and fall fast asleep, like the end of a picture book, cathartic.