Gloomy Sunday.


The only downfall of having a good time is waking up the next day. I’m not talking about a hang-over. I’m talking about the let-down of waking up alone, to your cats, and some crap classic rock playing on the radio. I try to remember that not every day is an all-out adventure/festival atmosphere. And that is okay, because I’d probably get bored if it were. Every day is different, today is gray, cool, autumn-like and rather than dancing around with a bunch of hot sweaty women in a dark room, I’m going to sturdy for an art history quiz.

I can shut off the crappy classic radio and put on Band of Horses, I can make myself some Starbucks coffee and make the best of it. It’s only noon, who knows what the day could bring…


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