Diary entry 1

From the diary of Diane Thomas (fictional character, the person whose body Artemis is in habiting), this is planned to be fairly early in the book, most likely shortly after the opening scene I posted earlier (which has since been mildly revised and almost doubled in length, I'll post the revised version sortly).

- Sofie

(edit: trying to fix the formatting issues, hope this returns our friends the commas and apostrophes to the scene. ~SO)

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November 3

Home from work and I can’t seem to shut off and go to sleep. It’s 3:30am and I need to be up & out of the house in less than four hours. The infomercials are on; beautiful, happy people stare at me at tell me how much better – how happy – I could be if I would just try. I’m tired, weary, used up, and no one cares. Me least of all lately. I heard through the rumor mill that my sister got married. The “family” didn’t make much of an attempt (if any) to let me know, much less invite me. I wonder if I’m really as much of an embarrassment to them as they are a disappointment to me.

The house just seems so empty, and I have to admit to some jealousy that Mary found someone worth spending time with. The last few attempts at a social life here have been a total wash. The nurses and receptionists at the office all keep trying to fix me up with one loser son or another, and I just don’t have the energy to make excuses not to go anymore. At least it’s generally a meal I didn’t have to cook. Sometimes I wonder how many of these “men” are having to borrow money for the date off their mommies.

How do I explain to these women that I’m simply not interested in trying to develop a relationship that will probably just turn out like my parents’ anyway? I really think I’m better off alone – at least then there is no risk of putting a child through what I went through. Human beings are just too messed up to be worth creating more of them, but these women seem to positively delight in pointing out how I’m not getting any younger. I wonder if precious Doctor Mary will manage to squeeze out a few perfect children in her spare moments. She is welcome to my breeding quota.

Last night I had the date with David. He’s the middle son of Georgia, the night shift nurse. Talk about people who shouldn’t breed. It started out well enough – at least he let me pick the movie – but I don’t know what his mother might have told him about me. He needs a serious lesson on respecting people’s personal space. I didn’t even finish the movie. His wandering hands freaked me out too much. I don’t know how I’m going to face Georgia next time our shifts overlap. Luckily, I don’t think that’s until next week sometime. One of the blessings of such a messed up work schedule, don’t think it balances out the damage it does to my sleep routine though.

Well, thinking of sleep, best I try again I guess. Staying awake is an implied part of the job description.

~Dia~