I find myself descending further and further into full-on crackdom. I keep waking up around dawn and being unable to sleep any more, so I end up exhausted by 9 at night. well, it's better than sleeping all day. I've started to spend routine days with dad, which is kinda nice. 11 a.m., talk about stuff in the newspaper and have snacks. noon, run errands and go somewhere cheap for lunch (after being subjected to a few minutes of "the other half"). back to watch NBC soaps. mom gets home from work and we tell her all that we didn't get accomplished. I'm diggin it.

big event of the day: replacing mom's wiper blades. lesson learned: get someone else to do it from now on. I'm surprised the NAACP hasn't called me out for being in "blackhands" rather than "blackface."

my complexion has also descended into the crack den. I get to greet my fellow fighting quakers looking like a picture of mars. blecch.

and the green grass grew all around...