I feel weird. I woke up early with a plan, but now I have too much time. I'm cold. I'll wear a sweater and be cold all day, air conditioning is only worth anything in the summer. When the weather is like this and you can see how perfect the air is through a window that doesn't open, being cold and sweatered feels like such an abuse. Still, at least I have a window that doesn't open to look through. Last week when people were worried about being caught in a storm everyone was jealous of that window. "Can I come in and look at the sky?"

These are my complaints for the past week:
1. The windows don't open.
2. I'm allergic to the tea. Two cups and my head pounds, like it's made with some sort of super caffeine that weighs more here on earth.
3. There is a refrigerator stocked with cans of soda, and I just want it to be apples. I mean, why not?
4. The ceiling lights hurt my skin.
Everything else is great.

I had a dream about you last night, and an umbrella. It was very conciliatory. I have an accidental and deep crush on a pop singer I've never met. Externally I'm an adult, but internally I've never been more fifteen in my life. Sam comes back in a couple of weeks, and I'm worried for him. Anyway, I just want it to be the Fourth of July, I just want to be fifty years old and living in the country, but I'm happy enough to wait.