I’m intrigued, really. I imagine what it’s like in the life of her. She wakes up before the sun even sees the trees. Depending on the morning she’ll either do herself up or just throw on her jeans. The drive to work is only made better with music to help her pass the time between reading bumpers and eyeing hubcaps. She slips in to work to sip on her chai. Today's a tea day you see. Let’s her eyes adjust before they get glued to computer screens and ears to receivers. Making more eye contact with blueberry phones then with boys like me. My body couldn't compete with how much action that phone could give out, my mouth could grow tired with the stupid things that flow out. She reminds me of me, but on such a different level. I’ve got more face time with my work then my life. I’ve got e-mails and pay checks to replace my friends voice mails. “Chad come out. Why don’t you ever come out to play these days?” Every things business, even these shows I attend. Oh every things business even these cds I spin. There’s so much going on, but so little to give out. And no one understand because when I get them on the line, they want to do the talking. And if there’s one thing I’m good at its the silent game. And my friend wants to go out and off my tongue rolls “I have to look at my schedule.” “It’s just dinner, jesus don’t you eat?” So I type her messages hoping her schedules clear. So I’m typing words she has to balance in. Every other girl always had the time. Every other girl always put me straight through on their line. Every other girl was on my schedule you see. So I find it funny looking through seeing what’s its like to be on the other end of me. It’s so frustrating when business interferes with communication skills I used to have. I type like I talk and it doesn't feel any different. And it’s not that sad because I’m really happy. It’s not that bad because she eventually writes me back. It’s strictly business it feels like, its strictly business I know. We’re only 20 I know, you know?