The days and weeks fly by. My daily routine of looking through two score jobs and then applying to one or two has ended. Now I look forward to selling my soul to the dark matron who bore me. Though in such an endeavor I have no guarantee of success, I know that in such a job I may find some satisfaction. If the county does not want me though, there is always private school as an alternative.
Romantically I am in a holding pattern of non-holding. Although things have been well when I see the other, she has not responded to my last message. This, I fear, proves my theory that when given a "maybe" it really means "no." I cannot trust in this as truth, but also I cannot hope in it as false. I am, and always shall be your friend, but I am never allowed to be anything more. The trend of the past...
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