some days, it just isn't going to happen. I seem to have the misery of being hung over without the pleasure of being drunk last night. Or maybe it's just psychosomatic manifestation of apathy. I think i'm going to clean some litterboxes, feed the birds, make a trader joe's run, and get the fuck out of the 909. So that i can go sit in the OC by myself (unless anyone knows of anything going on tonight, in which case, you should call me).
Steph and I are going to Iceland. This summer. We're so there.