Today I drove/rode down from West Sacramento to L.A., in the aftermath of my brother's graduation.

So I've been shifting between low grade misery and a somewhat absent-minded contentment (ignorance is bliss). I feel like a car trying to climb a hill in fourth gear, unable to handle it, then falling back to third.

Once again everyone has left, and it's about 1:30am, and I'm by myself.

(My, it seems as if ITunes is reading my mind. First, it played "King of Sorrow" by Sade, then "How Soon Is Now" by Morrissey. Anyway. Yes, I finally bought that iBook I have been lusting over for quite sometime now. Me a Machead. Who'd've thunk it?)

I'm leaving in a couple of days, heading back to Chicago, a little anxious by how the next couple of years might turn out. My only worry is that there is no escape hatch, no safety valve. There is no such thing as retreat or surrender. I know it's a fallacy, but I seriously feel like it's do-or-die once June 19th comes around, and there won't really be much to catch me should I fall.

But, at last, after everyone left, to their respective homes and/or beds, I drove out to Barnes and Noble in Glendale, feeling like I was at the end of my rope. Still, nothing seemed to cheer me up much. All the Written Word seemed to be doing was further deranging my mind and preventing me from thinking straight. (OK, not like I'm a paragon of cogitative clarity in general, but maybe you get my point.) That is, until I found "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" on DVD.

Now I saw it at Virgin Records in San Francisco about two weeks ago, but hesitated about picking it up, seeing as how I have no money, but I suppose when it's a choice between fiscal solvency and a couple of laughs, the laughter always seems to win out, much to my checking account's dismay.

So I headed back home, stopping by Ralphs on the corner of Verdugo and Colorado for some tequila and some Margarita mix, popped in the DVD, and enjoyed. It's scary how I actually know a lot of the lines verbatim, just from reading the books continuously.

But now I'm at a loss as to what to do tomorrow. There's always the old standby of going to the beach, if it's warm enough, but other than that, I'm not really sure what I want to do. Yes, there are things I had told myself to do, even before I had taken the boards and left Chicago, but now that the hour is at hand, I'm not sure that what I had in mind is the wisest course of action. Dilemmas, dilemmas.

Seriously though, I figure that whatever needs to happen will happen, whether I want it to or not. I suppose that's what fills me with dread about these next two years. It's not really like I can run from my problems, as I've grown accustomed.

But overall, I suppose I'm O.K. for now. O.K. to get by at least. Now that's there's no heavy weight on my back, I figure I can scrape on by. But I'm worried about when the shit hits the fan. I'm afraid I won't be able to bear it. This past school year has wounded me in complex ways I can't even begin to fathom, ways I'm afraid to delve into. I feel like I should just leave well enough alone, and wait until it's all scarred over. I wish I could heal before I had to head back, but I'm afraid two days isn't enough time. I'll just have to suck it up and endure. In my scarce moments of clarity, I'm confident, even arrogant, about my ability to get through, but during these lonely still hours of darkness, my heart quails as I imagine the task at hand, and my thoughts turn to matters which I really shouldn't bother thinking of.