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Homage to Roberta Sparrow*

I’ve been at work since 6:45 this morning.

Not a big deal, but I didn’t fall asleep until after 2 o’clock in the morning.

Working off three cups of coffee, L-Glutamin, and these really nice tea biscuits that the British guys at work brought in. Being this tired has caused my mind to roam about unsupervised. As follows:

In about eight hours, I will have my first time travel experience. Flying from Rhode Island to California will send me back in time three hours. Completely blows my mind. Fly out at 8 from Chicago, arrive in LA at 10 … but it’s a 5 hour flight? I can’t even conceptualize that on the amount of sleep that I have(n’t) had.

I fully expect to see the vortex from Donnie Darko*. Maybe a fibonacci spiral or two.

And then I will be on the Pacific Coast for the first time in my life. Having always been locked to the eastern seaboard, I’ve heard the tales of the Hollywood Walk of Fame and the laid back demeanor of the West Coast but have never seen it for myself. I am pretty damn excited to check out all the sights. Scope out some employment opportunities. And some apartments?

Never hurts to look.

(Mom, please don’t freak out yet.)

Bags are packed: Pump supplies, countless test strip bottles, two books to read, the iPod, my coveted Xanax for the flight, and the new digital camera I bought last night in a fit of Where the Hell is my Old Camera.

“And of course my LA Gear sneakers,” asserts Kerri, keeping her voice cool and sans sarcasm.

This girl is ready for the West Coast.

 

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