G-d, last night was awful. No, I don't want to talk about it.

I'm more or less stalled on reading; I have The Surgeon's Mate (Patrick O'Brian, book 7 of the Aubrey/Maturin series) sitting here, but I'm not really in the mood for convoluted early-19thc conversations. I've spent the non-work bits of my day doing the email thing, failing to read news, and converting the rest of June 1997 entries into readable format. Two months down, six more to go.

I need more music. I haven't bought CDs since November, except for a quick Borders run sometime this spring to pick up a copy of the newer Wallflowers -- which was inspired by the fact that one of my co-workers is the brother of a band member. It was cute; soon after I started working he came bouncing in and said, "My brother won a Grammy! Well, his band won a Grammy, but this means him too!". It's hard not to grin when confronted with such infectious joy.

But anyway, more music. Right now all I have to listen to at work is Operation: Mindcrime by Queensryche; one of my favourite albums, but only really suitable when I'm I'm in the grip of some intense emotions. It got heavy play earlier in the day when I was depressed and/or angry, but now that my mood has lightened I really want something cheerful and loud. Maybe tomorrow I'll remember to steal some of Earl's Oingo Boingo CDs. "Dead Man's Party" would do nicely right about now

I've been waking up to Cats Laughing. This is a good thing.

Almost time to go home. I'm dreading it. More long conversations. More tears and depression and anger. Maybe there'll also be some happy figuring things out, but the hope is pretty tiny compared to everything else.

Tomorrow I have a phone interview with some nice people at Stanford -- well, hopefully they're nice. Looking around the web pages of the group I'm not siezed by an overpowering desire to work there, but it's awfully unfair of me to make any judgements when I still haven't spoken with anyone. I'm glad they're interested, though -- working at Stanford could be excessively keen.

Oh, Taos phone-screened me today too -- sort of informally, since they had copious notes from when I actually worked there. I was pretty incohereny and probably came off as an idiot, but so it goes.

Enough delay. Home, to face the angst.