Posted on July 4, 2017 – No sketchbook in the mail – No first two weeks of June paycheck | – No Captain Yale in the office (PURE JOY) – No one in the office until around 10 this morning (PURE JOY PT II) | I can’t sleep. I should because I have to get on a train some time tomorrow morning to join some 4th of July festivities. I’m obsessing (directionally) about _ and it (obsessing) will soon become inappropriate (due to time, distance, etc.) | A lot of white worn out on the street and a lot of strange underwear that can be seen through it. A lot of cheap poplin dresses blown up by the wind. A lot of toes doing weird shit in sandals and foot overhang in a lot of them too. Just a lot of shit I don’t care to see. | Another huge chunk of Reality that I’ll never master is outright consumption, I bought this with my last paycheck sort of shit. | I like that a co-worker wears embroidered gingham to work. I’m ambivalent about Intern I’s choice of clothing. I don’t know where one shops for pattern like those she wears, I don’t really know where one buys shirts with frill and cutout shoulders in navy blue either. I imagine showing up to the office dressed like my co-workers, one for every day of the week sometimes and I feel somewhat insane or some other word no one’s really allowed to use anymore. If I dressed like Intern I, I would have to buy a whole outfit off a rack, but I’d have comparable shoes of patent leather; I have enough gingham in my wardrobe so the Project Manager is covered; I’d have to buy khakis to dress like Captain Yale, but I have the left part covered (and I could be equally as mean and as big of an assface without trying); Intern II, dressy pajamas; I’m just blanking fine with my what’s-turned-into-a-uniform. I have the same pair of trousers in three colors x 3/ea., the same pair of black socks x 10, some socks with ostentatious flourishes for FTW days, the same pair of shoes in 3 different colors. This serves a single purpose: I am able to stick to a routine in the morning. Part of that routine involves a 15-minute window for getting ready. I pick out the same color shirt, trousers and shoes, everything is done within 5, then I dilly dally for 10 minutes. I never allow myself to change my mind and I never do my hair. Lately, it has become more and more important not to stand out too much: which is to write, I don’t wear the patent leather shoes in my closet (gave them away yesterday), I don’t wear the gingham either (but secretly want to), I’d never buy khaki and no friend of mine would and pajamas will always be a mystery to me. | I don’t know what writing through clothes has to do with anything. | My friend _ plays dead at the relational shit and really likes hiding under her rock. Sometimes I think she doesn’t really have a reason to do so, just excuses. The last thing she told me was that drawings don’t need to be perfect. All I remember thinking was But they can be.