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2004.12.11    

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Hm. It’s 3 AM.

I have a little thing I like to call insomnia going for me.

It doesn’t help that when I stir in my sleep, Ramona leaps—violently— onto my chest to make sure she can wake me up for food.

She’s not a light cat.

Seriously. It kinda hurts. I have an abusive cat. How sad is that?

Plus, the heat’s off again.

To top it off, I’m having a horrible, no-good, very bad weekend. After a horrible no-good, very bad week.

I give up.

I got nothing.