It's Wednesday. Where am I?

Didn't sleep too well last night. Then I moved the rest of my stuff out to my car and double and triple checked that I packed everything though I think I might be missing a sock.

Like, ten minutes after I humped all my stuff up from the car C came over and I was like "Can I get you something? Wait. I don't have anything". Yeah. Please don't pay attention to the garbage bags of clothes on my bedroom floor.

Couldn't get into the Queen's Cross for dinner since every table was taken. Man, since the Olympics kicked off it's been party central in the pubs. Guys: it's St. Paddy's day. No one here is Irish: they're white and Persian with some South Americans thrown in and the odd Brit. I saw someone drinking a green Corona. WTF.

Ended up at Mosquito Creek and C was like "Oh, I'm so pleased I left Kits for this". Then we had a debate about Mexican illegal immigrants and startled some soccer players with the air horn in his truck.

I should get one for my Civic.

Kind of missed my place, small as it is (with a shit internet connection). The plants aren't dead. The fridge is empty. The dust bunnies have been breeding like... rabbits.

It'll be an end of a (very short) era when this thing sells.

Maybe it won't.

Maybe I'll live alone ad infinitum.

Father's daughter.