schlag

I have had the flu now for three days-- yuck.

Someone bring me some Chicken Soup.

Ripping some CDs,

I can also hear the cat,

He snores quietly.

And it's been as bad as I thought... man, I don't get it. I figured I was too old for this sort of shit.

Then again, it means I am still alive, right?

So it's not all bad.

Honest.

Oh, the unique joys of crushes. My current one is completely unavailable, which somehow only serves to make the crush stronger.

She's coming over on saturday, and I'll sigh a lot, and try and pretend that I'm not head over heels. That we're just friends, and that's all I'll ever want.

So it goes.

Oh, enough of this vaugely whiny crap. I once ran a blog which imploded due to excessive mopery. I'm here because the place seems alive-- I see celebrations going on here... and that's damn cool.

Me, I bought a bunch of music today, and am now sitting in my way-too-big-for-me apartment, with a cat fighting the keyboard for attention... I love this gigantic furball. I...
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Jesus wept, I am old.

I've just moved-- not very far, mind you, just 30 miles or so-- and am finally settled, um, here. The cat is rattling around the new place (it's huge), and I am in the middle of ripping my Unsane CDs for transfer onto an MP3 player, so I have something loud to listen to at work (nothing drowns out coworkers better)--

Why am I telling...
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