Lately I've had this wonderful sleep pattern where i get eight hours every night so on the weekend my body doesn't feel the need to sleep till 10 like it used to. But now this week, I haven't been arriving home till around ten. Yargh. I think coffee missed me. I also think my head hurts.
When I am snowed in I illuminate my entire room with candles and play Dr Mario for hours and clean my room and read old letters and listen to Clarity because it sounds wintry.
I feel like I have a ton to do, but really, I don't have anything at all. Maybe it's just the fact that I'm not looking forward to the next few days very much at all
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