Don't you just hate it when you wake up all hot and icky? You're just very slightly sweaty, you're head just slightly aches and your hair is plastered to your head in very UNslightly scary ways. That was this morning. I also tried to put in my contacts--samples, form the eye doctor, meaning I have no more--and one of them tore. This means my headache remains. I have a good book though, I volunteer tomorrow and it will be a good day, in spite of the bleh morning. I so declare it, in the name of Saturday.
I wish I could write songs, so badly.
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