Yawn. 

The two men are a funny pair. Two cups of deep, black coffee are pushing on my bladder walls. 

I wish you were here with me. Isolation has gotten tiresome and I am ready for some stimulation. 

No one wants to talk to the girl in black. This resting bitch face has gotten out of control. 

God I want a pastry. 

 

But the mirror across from this table reminds me of my chins and somehow my appetite has waned. 

Vanity is the best suppressant.

 

Everyone seems so desperate to be noticed. I am nauseated by my own desire for the same recognition. 

People flow in and out and chatter aimlessly. I smile faintly trying to break out of my normal scowl. 

Shit, my car just got ticketed. 

More later.