What a wretched day.

Heading for the lake tomorrow. Call me crazy, but i'm looking forward to it. Things are looking up, & it'll be great to get it all set in stone.

I ordered books today. I now own Franz Kafka. I'm moving up in the world.

Neightbors never shut up. "Ocean's Thirteen" looks underwhelming. Advil never expires.

I have nothing really of note to say. Or rather, nothing that will make for good reading to anyone but me. So i'll copy this from the other blog:

By the way, it's never, ever good when your home becomes something of a cell. A place you're paying X amount of dollars a month to be sentenced in. This week, I think i've talked to maybe three people, two of which were on the phone & the other one didn't speak English. I've had too much time to think, both of me & others. Too much time to seriously consider what kind of person i am, or would like to believe i am. Ask myself things like how i can bend over backwards to help others, or to do my best to see someone of importance, when others rarely if ever do the same for me. Recurring theme, don't take it personally. It just is good to know you matter sometimes, to sound selfish. I ask myself a lot of things, especially this week. It's a weird thing: it never used to be like this, or as bad. A year ago, it didn't matter terribly, even though it was still evident. Now...got me. I'm not angling for anything, by the way. I'm not like that. But i will say i'm lonely, & that isn't all that enjoyable.

Later.