Wow. The preceeding seven pages in this notebook are all mix tape lists. And all have individual and very specific themes.

Dude, God? I think you forgot to give me a life.

Anyway, I spent the day cleaning, chasing chickens, and editing stories. The chickens were harassing my cat and the stories were sitting in a folder, going nyah-nyah...no sleep for you. Bitches. All of them.

The fruit of today's labor? Three exhausted hens, three complete stories, one lemon fresh house and one shamed cat.

I still feel like the day was a waste. Maybe because I haven't changed out of my pajamas, let alone venture out in public. Maybe the sun going down later and later makes me feel like I can get even more done. Maybe it's because I thought about boys more than usual (I even called one) and I know for a fact that is a complete fucking waste of brain power.

Or maybe it's because I haven't had dessert.

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