Chrisonomicon

Friday, January 12, 2001

The story of my life could be summed up in one general statement: I?m waiting. The direct object of that waiting, however, is variable and greatly unknown, ranging anywhere from financial stability to wistful, romantic projections. The harsh incandescence of flourescent lighting illuminates the library where I write this entry, naturally while waiting. This time for Eric. As much as I attempt to wrench my grip, painfully, from the steering wheel of life, the sensible Chris consistenly intervenes, soft voice subtly grating: "Straightforward, stable. Just wait." He gently removes the nervous, cold fingers that have gripped the help and holds them until they warm to a morose beige. Calmed and steadied, I continue to type.