My eyes feel like they're about to fall out of my head. The chair that I sit in makes this rubbing sound, almost like a whoopie cushion, every time I move around in it. I'm on facebook, gmail and myspace more than anything while I'm at work, and I get to read all the magazines that I can get my hands on.

What does that tell you?

I do research, I look things up and half the time, I'm writing emails to people who I know aren't going to write back. What an internship? Aren't they all supposed to be shitty like this? And now here's the time... Today was labeled Black Thursday by the media. Why? Because they're laying off people left and right.

This is the time for the new media; how are we going to make ours stick? What's the question here? What's the problem here? Is democracy going down the drain? Naw, I don't think it's going that far, but there is a definite issue with where the media is going and what it means for America.

Snip*Snip*Snip* There they go, one by one. Being knocked off like flies. What happens when they call your name? Does it feel like they're taking you out of a Nazi camp, lining you up at the door to the gas chamber and pushing you in? Does it feel like you're going to the doctor to get a tooth taken out and they do it without any pain medications? How does it feel to know that you're losing your job that you worked so hard to get in a competative market? How does it feel to know that where you've been for the last 10, 12, 15 years is finally saying, enough is enough. Sorry the economy's bad, but you're gone? Where do you go then?

My big question is for those editors and producers who've been laid off recently. Where are you going now? What are you going to do now when there's hardly anyone hiring because everyone is laying each other off? Do you go back to journalism or do you look elsewhere? What are you going to do? How are you going to climb that ladder back to where you were? Is it going to take another 10-20 years? Aren't you too old to find a job like that?

I'm not saying, I'm JUST saying. Key. Key component.

Who am I to talk? I'm not even getting paid for doing the shit that I do.Why do I have to write at all? Ugh. The needs of the wandering mind. 

If only I didn't live at home. Sorry, 'rents. I'd be doing better for myself. Maybe I should apply to that job outside of journalism...

Grace.

I don't ususally write a lot about my emotions... lie.

I don't usually write about my emotions when they're happening. I mean, it's usually when things are past or have happened about a week ago.

Today, I'm going to write about the situations that I was faced with and how I feel about them now.

Where do I start? Good or bad?

Let's start with the bad. Ok, so I had a continuous glucose monitor put in me for about a week. I went to have it removed today and it was a reality check. A big one. I mean, I'm not dying, but I realized that the control I thought I had over my body, is not really there. No... lie.

I have control over my body, but, it still does what it wants because I don't know how it works! I don't know what to do to fix me! Why don't I know? Why can't everything just be ok with me? I'm taking my medication, I'm doing what the doctors tell me to do and still, there are issues; there's always something for me to worry about more than I had even cared to think about.

It scares me. It really does and I don't think that I've ever really told anyone that before. I've never cried in front of anyone about it because it was something that I had to try my best and control. But when I do the right things and still, STILL, it's not enough, what do you do then? I can compare this situation to so many things in my life, but this is the worst because it's my health; it's my normalcy.

What happens if I lose that? Not to mention that this whole ordeal brought on the reality check of the world: What happens when I need insurance? I can't depend on my parents my entire life. I just can't. What if I never find that job that will give me what I need? You find those people who are dying because they can't afford diseases like mine. They can't go to the doctor, they can't pay to stay alive.

If I don't get that, I regress about 20 years. I go back to being that person who doesn't know blood sugars or what they mean, who might get a leg amputated. Ugh... I don't even want to think about that. This stress doesn't help.

Now for the good. Today I met Freddy Rodriguez. He's one of the nicest people that had a reputation of his calibur that I've ever met. Short in stature, but so approachable, I can only hope that he never loses that as an actor. He was like a long lost friend that I found again. I gave him a copy of Cafe, the one where he was on the cover, because he hadn't gotten one. Then I told him that he had to trade me and give me a picture with him since he took the copy of the magazine that I wanted him to sign. :)

I'm so cool now. Just typing out that story again, made me feel special.

In other news, I found another one. Kind of like me-- I found him. And it wasn't an accident either. For some reason, just when he first talked to me, there was something about him. It was a little suspicious, but good how it all turned out. The only weird thing is that I can't say that it was out of left field, because for some reason I expected it. Instinct? Intuition? Or reason? I have yet to pinpoint these things, but at the same time, I don't want to over think it. I found him and that's all that matters.

Grace.