December 16, 2002
The Colour
Slept ages and ages today, despite the hour or so intermission sometime around six, when I coughed myself awake and stayed that way until Mom brought me cough syrup. Mom's are good for those things.
I also made it a point to do laundry and wash dishes and listen to Weezer as loud as I liked. I cleaned out my closet, making three piles: one for the free store, one for the thrift store, and one for me. I am hoping that the thrift store gives me money for my clothes, but it is highly unlikely. Either way. I had about ninety articles of clothing that I haven't worn in about ninety years.
Am incurable pack rat.
I polished off the last of the bottle of Dayquil, and am now contemplating the Nitequil. My throat is mutinous and evil and must be properly soothed.
Did you know that Bowflex helped the war on terror? Well, if you watched television, you'd be sure to. Sometimes commercials annoy me. Sometimes commercials make me laugh. And sometimes commercials really piss me off, for example, when they totally take advantage of the gullible nature of the American nation. Fucking Bowflex helped the war on terror. Fuck me.
Am going shopping with Mike tonight. In roughly forty-five minutes he will be here, clad in his uniform, ready to cart me over to his house where he will shower, and from there we will depart to whatever shopping facility is still open. I need to buy my brother a present. Will likely see tons of things I want to buy myself.
What do I want him to get me for Christmas?
I honestly don't know. I don't want him to spend too much money on me. I don't want to tell him what to get.
He has no idea.
I love his watch. It has a navy blue strap.
Navy blue is the colour of his energy. Not amber.
astera at 6:56 p.m.