Sick at Heart.
Last night was odd. I can't decide if it was bad or good. Not good enough, I guess. Lackluster is the only way I can describe it, and it went by too slow and too fast, all at the same time.
I rolled, but not hard enough. I guess it's good because I don't feel like absolute shit today, and I'm even slightly hungry, although my jaw aches so I doubt I'll be eating too much.
I smoked an assload of weed, courtesy of Nick Cowsert, who is the man and who should probably just keep celebrating his 18th birthday for the next month or so to make up for last night.
I woke up at like 9, fell back asleep at like noon, and woke back up at about 2:30, and then came home.
I need to shower.
I need to talk to Jake.
I need one of those Vespa scooters, also.
I have a feeling you're not asleep anymore.