the king tries to put his life in order.

Jun 12, 2008 02:14



Absinthe gives a nasty hangover. Reminder to self: Refuse to let Scott buy any more seafood, because the smell makes me sick.

[...]

Change address with following: bank, cell-phone company, The Village Voice, work contact info. I've started taking naps in the staff-room; I can't decide if this is a good thing or not. School's over very, very soon. It ought to be easier to get things done then. Graduation is emotionally touching and I'm looking forward to seeing how many people trip on those ridiculous gowns.

Scott, as of today I've officially beaten the previous record for most nights spent largely comatose on your couch. Good times. More co-eds back then, though.

Call my cell phone if you ever need me, o loyal denizens of magic-journalandia. Not the home phone. Don't bother Anne with it.
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