one hundred. seventy eight.

The strangest day so far.
I'll blame it on last night. About to go to sleep when I decide to take a swig of the water bottle sitting next to the bed.
You know those cleaning commercials when it makes the "DUN DUN DUN DUN" noise, that frightening music, followed by the screeching sound when you glimpse the pawprint from Fido on your carpet?
Tell me you know what I mean.
In any case, that was going through my head as I was taking delicious gulps, then glanced down at the bottle to see dainty, fluffy little clumps of mold clinging to the sides and floating around.
Who knew mold could grow in a water bottle?!
I warned my sister to check my vital signs every few hours and tried to sleep.
Woke up this morning feeling especially groggy. Went to work, thankful that it was a short shift, and thankful it was Tuesday. Tuesdays are unusually uneventful.
The day is going on merrily, until about 8:30 when crazy man walks in.
I knew immediately and instinctively that he would be crazy.
I'm making friendly small talk with the police officer who always gets a honey latte. I tell crazy man I'll be right with him. Crazy man walks right up to the counter and asks me how my morning has been.
"...It's been good, thanks, how has your morning been?"
"Not good. Just got a seat belt ticket. And I have no money. But I'm not going to let it ruin my day."
"Good plan."
Personally, I would never discuss tickets in front of a police officer, seems like some sort of faux pas, but this guy seems to have no problem. The police officer gives me a sympathetic glance, then takes his latte and walks out the door. I silently rage at being left alone with crazy man.
Crazy man asks for a small coffee in a large cup, so that he can put a load of cream in. Not that I'm counting, but it's a decent 10 oz. of cream he throws in there.
He makes random requests, a phone book, switch cups, put the phone book back he forgot he had his own, etc. He is disoriented.
He sits with his phone book and begins to make calls with his phone on speaker. He is calling pharmacies. I surmise that he might potentially be off his meds. He puts his phone down for a second and then suddenly, literally SUDDENLY is asleep. Passed out. In his sleep he twitches and takes off his shoes.
I tell my boss and random customers that he is probably just conducting a social experiment to see if we will kick him out.
I laugh loudly, bang pitchers on the counter and yell "GOODBYE" to customers as they leave.
No response.
My boss doesn't want to kick him out, she is a little scared of him.
He is startled and wakes up, strangely not at any point that I was making noise. In waking up he dumps his creamy coffee all over the floor. He then places his foot, sock only, right in the middle of the puddle and goes back to sleep.
We make Paul, the manager from the other side, go and wake him up and tell him we need to clean up his mess.
He apologizes profusely, but I suspect he is still asleep by the drooling he is doing as he's talking. We encourage him to go to the bathroom and splash some water on his face. He agrees, but not before taking off his soaked socks, putting on his shoes and leaving his socks on the floor behind him.
We clean everything up.
He comes back out, apologizes again, buys another coffee and then leaves, but not before jumping from sitting in his car to checking his trunk multiple times.
Glen - the man who sits in the computer tech window we have in our coffee shop - says that I attract crazy people, because I am crazy.
Thanks Glen.
We then have a jolly conversation about social experiments and he gives me a piece of chocolate.
So, all in all...strange times.
Anyhow, currently I'm hoarding a table at Panera during the lunch rush, so I'm feeling some guilt. I should probably get up and let some old friends sit here and catch up. I also should spy on the delicate drawing the man in front of me is doing in blue pencil. I've been craning my neck to catch a glimpse.

one hundred. seventy seven.

Current battle: Christina vs. Diet Diary.
My biology teacher is making us all do a diet diary for a week, writing down not only calories but fat, saturated fat, sugars, fiber, carbs, sodium and protein.
This is turning every meal into quite the ordeal. [unintentional rhyming.]
Not only do I feel guilty when I've downed three Oreos after lunch and I'm giving Nutella longing glances an hour later, but I also have to add up everything I eat.
Example: Yesterday I wanted a tuna sandwich. I need to measure portions and then tally up all the above points for the tomato, bread, tuna, salt, mayo, mustard and cheese. Ridiculous.
I'm about ready to just give up on eating for the rest of the week.
I've also started looking at foods to see which ones only have five ingredients, because I was reading a book about how you should only eat foods with 5 ingredients.
This would eliminate some of my diet.
Especially Oreos.

I have been positively awful at blogging and journaling. I don't know how my days seem so short, I'm only taking 2 classes and yet my homework load seems strangely overwhelming when combined with work, family & friends. I wish I did have time to write, it seems I have a lot to write about. Someday when I publish my memoirs/coffee shop book, you'll know.

Current other things that occupy my time besides homework/work would be my ukulele that I've been trying to learn how to play [wretched strumming patterns are confusing], a trip to Nashville where I had my first shot of tequila and left with an LP from The Civil Wars which I have been fairly obsessed with. Also, spending my time with this charming chap named Alex. It's a good story, I'll tell you sometime.

I've been thinking too. Drives to work and school and friends leave time for lots of thinking - I end up wishing more came out of it, something with a forward motion.
& I'm thinking about being empty.
There are good connotations to this - emptying yourself for another and such.
Being empty might be better than being full, i.e. full of oneself or too complacent and satisfied so that you no longer hunger.

One thing I'm frightened of is empty words.
They hang there after I've said them and hold no weight, even float away.
When I grab her arm and say "I'll be praying for you."
Do those words hold meaning or do I just say them because we say these things?
When I look at you & say "I'm sorry," am I really?
When I express love or sorrow, are my words reflecting true feelings and initiative or seem listless and shallow?
Even as customers walk out the door with their coffee at the shop, and I send them off with a "Have a good day!" I'd like to mean that too. I earnestly want them to have a good day. I want to earnestly love and sorrow and apologize and pray, want my words to hold meaning and weight.
You know?