Stupid disease.

I've been listening to the same three albums for three days straight, now. Discount, Sonic Youth and The Transplants. I'm trying to write stories but I get either pissed off or depressed and start writing a different one. Rinse, lather and repeat.

And now it's almost one thirty and I feel like getting into a story would be pointless since I have to go to work tonight.

Stupid work. Fucking with my starving artist lifestyle. The nerve.

There was a weird cat in my backyard earlier and Dottie the Hen was flipping out. And then Ethel the Hen decided that she was going to play hero and chased the poor fucker out of the yard. I guess Ethel's heroics excited Howie for he whistled and bowed down to her. I got mad because I hate when he bows to the chickens, so I came inside and ate a lot Cadbury Mini Eggs.

That was my morning. How was yours?

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