Currently wearing headphones with no sound coming out of them . . . yes, let's have some music . . .
Ah. The Rasputina cover of Velvet Underground's "All To-morrow's Parties". Good, good.
It's hot in this room.
I need to go to sleep.
I don't want to sleep at all. I wanna wake up and have Monday happen already. I'll be honest with you, I'm disappointed with myself. I'm completely unprepared for class to-morrow and that bastard'll put us in groups.
Ugh. I feel frantic and lethargic, exhausted and impatient, consumed and empty, and all that usually unusual rot.
I told Trisa a few weeks ago that I was going to cultivate my uselessness. I'm making headway, but I need to go further. Or so the Lovecraft Tarot tells me.
There's a big crack in my windshield. I think it just might be getting steadily larger. Tim told me it could just break on me while I'm on the freeway. I thought this was just more of Tim's paranoid claptrap. That guy slept with a black widow spider last night--he told me he's gonna do something about it to-night.
I'm gonna keep up steam until dawn. Let's list the things I oughta be doing. My horoscope said I should do that on Saturday, but I procrastinated. So here 'tis now.
I need to work on my novel.
I need to kind of rewrite everything I wrote for part 8. Or at least heavily edit it.
I need to read a lot of my text book.
I need to care, damnit. I need heart.
Plus I have another project I started on Friday . . .
And there's a short story I wrote half of a few weeks ago . . .
I have eight dollars. Hurrah! In your face "hurrah"! I can get coffee to-morrow morning.
You know what I want, though? A pretty concubine.