Epic sibling drama+post musical depression+sleep deprivation=not such a fantastic day.
But.
Lily Allen's new album is awesome.
And I went to Lohemann's with mom, which is awesome.
And we went to Panera and I had an awesome mango smoothie and had songs about juicy, lovely, poison mangos stuck in my head for about an hour afterwards.
And then we hypothesized about the future, which was both frustrating and exciting. And makes us sound far more philosophical than we were being.
I am so tired I might sleep through Dawson McAllister. I hope I don't. I love that radio show. Anyone in the DC area, tune to 99.5 between 10 and 12 on sunday nights. It's a fantastically amazing advice type show that I listen to ritually. And I missed it last week due to 3-day-weekend confusion. So I want to hear it.
Not that I intend to stay up until midnight. Madness. No, I set my radio to turn off after two hours, and fall asleep whenever. Which is usually a little before eleven.
But tonight it may be far earlier. I couldn't sleep in this morning because... my brain woke me up (unfair, cruel brain), and I'm exhausted now.
I need a haircut. But I can't figure out when I'll have time to get one.
The next month is about as scheduled as one month can be.
Clara
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