IT DOESN"T MATTER
Today, I read The It-Doesn't-Matter Suit, a children's picture book by Sylvia Plath, out loud to my little sister. It put me in a really good, but nostolgic mood. It's kind of depressing to think that the person who wrote it killed herself through asphyxiation when she was still young. It was the least depressing thing I could have read, aside from that.
I went to bed at 8:30 last night, and got up at 5 today. My sleeping patterns are hella erratic. On the 30th, I have an "intake evaluation" at the drug dealy in Flemington. I hope it's painless. I want to go to An Albatross or T(I)NC? I'd better get to one or the other. And I'd better get to Against Me! on the 15th...it's three days after my birthday, so I can use that as leverage in getting there.
Well, that's all I have to say.
I went to bed at 8:30 last night, and got up at 5 today. My sleeping patterns are hella erratic. On the 30th, I have an "intake evaluation" at the drug dealy in Flemington. I hope it's painless. I want to go to An Albatross or T(I)NC? I'd better get to one or the other. And I'd better get to Against Me! on the 15th...it's three days after my birthday, so I can use that as leverage in getting there.
Well, that's all I have to say.