One time when my little brother was a kid he announced to everyone that he was going to bed--at 6PM--because he was "sick of this day." That's what this feels like. There's nothing really bad going on but I'm juuuuust. I don't know. Tomorrow will be better.
Just Shakespeare class to go and then I think I'm driving home, unless a friend drags me to see a comedian (the guy is...meh. When compared with Eddie Izzard everyone is double meh).
I would rather go home, I would rather work on the Arthur/Eames fic and figure out what the hell my hangup is with it, other than a sudden suckage of self-worth. No biggie.
Basically what I want out of life right now is
right here. Doesn't that look like the best place to be in the world?