Fourth, get into a small struggle with the lead guitarist, fall to the ground and cry.

But that is okay. I am happy to freeze.

Making cinammon (I am spelling it wrong, and loving it) toast is the kind of thing that makes me very happy. Making cinammon toast is the kind of thing that you do on a cold day (if only if it is artificially cold inside your enclave). Making cinammon toast has always struck me as something you do for someone you love. I do not have anyone to make said toast for, so I ate it myself.

It was liberating. Also, delicious.

Tonight I am laying low because the Paxil is knocking me out and dragging me down. Also, no one whose calls I want will return mine (though others are being received and have gone unanswered multiple times).

I am going to go back to bed and curl up, and hope for someone to bring me more toast. The way I feel right now, it should be snowing outside, and I should be somewhere else.

Our washing machine sounds like the intro to a song I like.