9:56 pm - Monday, Sept. 16, 2002
Song:
Hating water polo practice today included throwing up and staring out the windows.
I watched the rain dance through the beams of street lights and wished I could do eggbeater stronger and questioned the possibility of doing push strong enough to slide me from the urine and chlorine pool out the door into the wet and dark world.
Chlorine stings my eyes despite the goggles, and I�m still deciding what the latex I wear over my head does to help me swim. All I know is real swimmers have caps so I must also.
I come home and smell like public pool. My hair is clean but the rest of me feels gross. I cuddle up in hoodies given by sweet gay boys and wish my hand weren�t so terribly dry.
Falling into bed still wearing shoes, Chris reminds me that I have a backpack full of homework that needs to be completed, and I yell at him to forget the homework already. I�m exhausted, don�t you care.
Then I apologize profusely, thank him for caring, and still avoid the backpack and the heavy books.
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