5:04 am - Saturday, Nov. 02, 2002
Song:
Shaking with the mornings cold, I hate that my parents, in the five years we�ve lived here, have yet to run heating pipes to our upstairs. Soon, I think.
I�m thinking that of everything right now. I�m tapping feet impatiently and fingers with equal impatience. I need to see him. In just three hours I will be on the greyhound up to see him.
I need my license.
Then I have to face what I�m fretted to about everyone during the past week. I have to meet his family. Cousins, aunts, uncles� more then hi mom and dad.
Stressful times.
All I really need to do: Smile, hold his hand and lie about my age.
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