11:35 PM

The ladies' bathroom in my office building is a magical place. It is the only place I have ever been, in fact, that has both a chandelier and a menacing bloodstain. Also, there are peeling gold-and-black stickers on the toilet paper dispensers made to look like fancy filigree. I am not fooled, corporate America; I saw that bloodstain.
I forgive the loo its indescretions, however, because not only is there a bottle of seemingly-expensive, peach-scented hand lotion by the sink, but it has warm air dryers for your hands, which are a necessity in a building that is little more than an air-conditioned igloo. Sometimes I go there just to turn them both on at once and fit my whole body underneath.
A woman who lives half a mile away from my apartment got murdered. You might have read about her on CNN. She was pregnant, and somebody cut her baby out of her. I don't think I'll ever understand why people do the awful things they do to one another.
I'm worried about Alex. He seems unstable, and I think his ex-girlfriend is purposefully twisting the knife.
About a month ago, I got invited by Clark to go to a get-together for incoming students and their parents tonight. As someone who's gone through three years there, I was supposed to field questions about what classes are like and how to survive the city. I handled all the new people better than I thought I would, especially given my rather extreme lack of sleep lately, so I've decided to force myself into having a good day tomorrow as a reward.
I'm going to dinner with Caity tomorrow night. I hope she's in the mood for Thai because I've been craving chicken satay.
The next order of business in getting my life on track is getting my tattoo touched up. It doesn't need much work, but I feel like it will make a big difference.
I've been looking into getting a new print for my bedroom. My walls are bare right now, save a Royal Tenenbaums poster, Alex Grey's "Kissing" and a wooden windchime.
I don't like having to admit how little faith I have in humanity.