Toastie ‘97

5:30PM

I was woken up again last night. I can’t listen to music or watch TV now because Michael is asleep. I’m an idiot if I let him use this room to drink tonight. But it looks like there’s a good chance I can get out of here. Bob Busby, the housing guy, told my R.A. Gray that there are spots available. I made an appointment to see Busby tomorrow at noon. I also may offically get a job with him. So I spent an anxious day waiting to hear what my fate will be. I guess learning my fate will have to wait until tomorrow.

I talked to Susan briefly before. She said she stayed up until 2:30 listening to my tape, which she said was beautiful. Forgetting for a minute that I could be gone from Trent within a week, I don’t know where I am with Susan right now. That tape was the last material thing I can give her for now. She’s feeling better gradually. She’ll be leaving the dorm soon, and I have to wonder if I’ll be doing anything with her. She knows how much I care about her, but I know she’s not going to say anything to me about that. I know she doesn’t think I’m bothering her, but I’m afraid of doing or saying anything that might change that.

Meanwhile, my classes suck. I should try to get some work done tonight. And that’s about all I feel like writing for now…