The end of this work week felt like a big dream. I worked in the afternoon only yesterday, so I painted my downstairs bathroom in the morning. It ended up being far less painful than painting the rest of the house had been a year ago (which is what ultimately took me this long to paint it to begin with), so I went out to my favorite antique shops to get some storage boxes for towels and stuff. I ended up finding boxes on the side of the road; but, seeing as they were free from the universe, I'm sure I brought a whole family of chiggers and centipedes into my house so, way to go!

For some reason I have been extremely foggy, sad, lonely, and lethargic for this whole week. I haven't had energy to even make my bed.

It's 2:30 already and I just now got up to microwave a turkey dog for 20 seconds and wolf it down in half that time.

I was going to get more fabric to make myself some dresses for some upcoming social things that I promised myself I'd attend... but I can't even think about sitting at that sewing machine for one more second without going crazy and crying.

Wait. Wait. I now remember getting up at 3:30 this morning and depositing my paycheck.

I wore boots, pajama pants, and a Paper Route shirt.

And I wondered if anyone ever called them Raper Poute.