Monday, September 26, 2005


running on three (non-consecutive) hours sleep today was not productive. madhouse. or as s.b. said convalescent house. the one brother chundering sick all night. i'm dubbed nurse. and the baby crying. and random dogs barking the perimeter. then rain. i said it was a dickens story. and he said why did i wake up in 19th century north london? i wish i had the answers. then transit trouble. and baltic ire overfloweth. oh that i had stayed in bed this morning.


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