September 29th, 2009
Dear Diary,
Today work was okay. Went by well. Though, case stumped me with the evidence, but I quickly got through that. Gibbs said to never doubt myself. That I'm smart. I'd like to think he was right, but...
Tonight I sit in my lab... and I type this diary entry out. No loud music, no music at all. That's what worries people. No music, and no caf-pow.
Gibbs doesn't know this, and neither does Tony or McGee... or Ziva.. But I thought about becoming an agent. I love the science, and I love my lab. But there's gotta be something more. Gibbs and the team puts their lives through risks, so...
Some of my friends are dead against it. Most are supportive.
Tonight as I write, I'm so confused. I don't know what I'm confused about, or why... but I am. So the confusion is actually making me sad. I actually... feel alone. I hate the feeling too.
Sometimes, I look at my age. I'm pretty young. Okay, well, not YOUNG. But, I'm younger than the rest of the team really. Not saying Gibbs is old... But, soon... one day, he's going to retire to Mexico again. Then, when I'm really in danger, I won't be able to contact him, and... who knows. Sometimes, I guess I get scared when I think of the most important people leaving me.
That is when I want to leave before Gibbs. When that thought pops into my head. At least I wouldn't have to spend the rest of my life on earth not being able to see him. They say in heaven, you can look down and see the people you left behind. I just wonder...
Well, I guess I'll grab Bert now, and catch a nap or something in autopsy. Ducky has this small mattress thing, and I'm dying to try it out.
Goodnight my Diary.
Abby Scituo