Atlanta

I've moved so much in the past few months. I don't know if I'll ever again experience the feeling of being home.

Regardless, I have no regrets, as I have had some amazing and strange experiences with incredible people along the way.

I'm working the night shift currently at an international package shipping company. For a week I've been in training with a 50 year old black woman named Sybil. Before I met her, I was told that I might not like her, because she has a constant pissed-off attitude. But on our first encounter, she scolded me for calling her ma'am, and I knew we would get along just fine. She is the most blatantly honest, intelligent, "I don't give a fuck, I just want to sleep and get my paycheck" kind of person I have ever met.

I don't do much work. I just count the minutes and try to find as many interesting things on Wikipedia to research until time to go home. Driving home at dawn, after working all night, is a pretty big mindfuck if you've never done it before.

Other than the job, life has been pretty routine--other than a few insane moments with middle-aged women who want to rock me and nurse me like a baby. And tragically beautiful straight boys who punch me in the chest after I save them from jumping to their death off an overpass. Maybe I should've kissed him. Our lips were so close, and I know I could've if I had wanted to, but it didn't feel right. Why? I don't know. Because that's my kind of romance.

I just finished reading Poppy Z. Brite's Drawing Blood. Amazing. I couldn't put it down. The only thing I hate about her stories is that they always make me fall in love with the characters, and when it's over, I feel like I've had someone incredible in my life die a tragic death.