This morning I popped over the the corner Chevron (practically next door, shares a building with McDonalds... oh, how I love this town and housing options) to pick up some milk before Eric got up for breakfast. We ran out of milk last night because SOMEONE WHO IS VERY TALL AND VERY MUCH NORWEGIAN AND LOVES HIS MILK (cough cough ERIC) drinks it all
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Eric is still passed out in bed - I am not surprised. Man Cakes needs to regulate his sleep schedule sometime very soon for when his school district job starts up again, though. All these late nights and games and yada yada yada. And then he wakes up well into the day wondering why he feels poopy... yeah, I won't
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Am relatively sleep deprived this morning. Did not go to bed until late. (My fault, I was playing Faerie Solitaire. Don't look at me like that. It's very addicting.) Once the lights were off, the cats decided it was time to chase each other around the apartment like a bunch of crazies, and knock a ton of shit over in the bedroom. (Fucking cats.)
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It's one of those days. They happen. I'll be doing fine for days, weeks, maybe even months, and then It will ninja strike me like there was no tomorrow from seemingly nowhere, though the signs are there if you know where to look
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Except not really. I start out with a half-assed, typed entry, and then I chicken out and don't post anything. This goes on for days. I am a terrible person. Most days I don't even feel funny, nor like my ramblings are even worth the 10-pt type. (It is 10 pt font, right? I wouldn't know.)