I've been staring at a blank screen for a while now and still have nothing to say. As a writer, though, I tend to write more when I'm in a block because to get past it, you have to put yourself through torture and torture involves forcing words like these to come out. No, they don't sound so great. No, they're not very enlightening. But what can I say? They get the job done and if a picture is worth a thousand words and I make it my task to take at least one picture a day without a camera because I don't have one, then my job has been clearly laid out before me.

A little bit about today: rain everywhere. Everyone coming in with sopping umbrellas and moping. "What a disgusting day." I grew up in a drought and any day there's even one drop is a day for celebration. The sun isn't always good for everything. Too much of a good thing turns sour. I'll take the rain. It's misty at the moment, falling slowly, like snow in February. It made the spring end when it kicked all the blooms off the stalks and now the spring's rainbow-on-the-ground has transformed into the summer's every-shade-of-green. Green gets old, like white, but the clothing gets better. Maybe we should wear the bright colors in the winter to combat the seasonal distress and the dark ones in the summer because we have enough of everything else. Keep the balance.

Two days ago I was at work and the phone rang at the info desk. Just because I work at a desk labeled "information" does not constitute my (or any of my co-workers') needing to know the answer to the secret of life. But we have our label and that means to the average Joe that we're literally omniscient. Call information and you think it's the equivalent of calling God. Well, maybe it is. I guarantee you'll be disappointed.

I don't know where to get your W-2 forms. Perhaps your place of employment? The IRS? I don't know where a homeless lesbian can find food and shelter other than the Salvation Army or another kind of shelter that I looked up for you and I really don't think you should be picky about where you go considering you're homeless. It's not my fault that the line for the bathroom is over 45 people long. That's what happens when you're a woman. I don't know where your caretaker is because that's your responsibility, not mine, especially since I wasn't here yesterday and I don't live with you, am not related to you, and no one gives me the information I need to know off the top of my head to give to you because people don't believe in communication or efficiency but osmosis. If you don't like the policies of this school, don't apply here. And if you already have and got accepted, go somewhere else. Not my problem. I'm just information. But I usually don't have that because I'm only supposed to know about this building and to tell you the truth, this building is pretty small.

We'll take a break now, go outside and walk through the rain sing in the rain dance through the rain and the green will get greener and the colors will fade because when it rains (generally) the sky fades to gray and white and the blue gets hidden behind it. This is real life these days, whatever that means and I go home to my half-painted half-white half-yellow room and fill it up with the one thing I could ever fill anything up with. I go home to an empty room and blue curtains and yellow sheets and stained wood that I worked hard for and unfulfilled dreams that I'm trying trying trying to make into reality past present and future for me and I talk to no one out loud inside those walls to doors with no knobs and to windows that open down and I imagine a presence a friend a voice someone to lean on and laugh with and cry with but it all comes back to the beginning and my life is a labyrinthine entity. We go one way and it's down with no ladder up but motivation and no matter how much of that I get the Exit is just a dream. When I travel, I travel for a long time and one day, I'll hit the end of the world like a brick wall that stops us all. So I'll stretch it out for as long as possible, stretch it out for the interim.

But the phone rings off the hook with people calling God. I learned the lesson that won't get through their heads a long time ago. All they're doing is calling me and either way, the answer's disappointing.