when the water runs deep
i look at the clock, blink, rub my eyes and look again. for a moment i think it's saying twelve o'clock, twelve o'clock, twelve o'clock, but really, what it's saying is that after twelve o'clock hours, i accomplished pretty much fuck all today, after a day of fuck all yesterday.
whatever. i'm almost done boethius, i've actually flossed my teeth and i can't stop listening to collective soul.
[most notably track four from dosage].
now i'm going to crawl into bed with my recently re-discovered music and my lost-but-found-half-duvet-throw-blanket-thing from that evil corporate giant i hate but always end up shopping at because they have everything for real cheap, read the last bit of boethius and hopefully sleep until it's actually time to wake up.
mmmmmmm- it smells like clean laundry and winter in my room.