Wait for me…

1.) Saturday night Bob and I were down in the basement while he changed the furnace filter and I found a dead mouse on the floor. WHAT. THE FUCK? Where did it come from and why was it dead? Also, now I want to set traps all over the damn house because I’m convinced there was a rodent in my kitchen rattling silverware on dishes on the counter on Sunday afternoon while Bob and I were upstairs in the loft.

2.) I finally had to hide Facebook updates from a select few people (because unfriending them would cause way more fucking D!R!A!M!A! than I have the energy to deal with) because I cannot handle one more repost about mental illness not being real and the government implanting tracking devices into everybody according to the AHCA. THE TINFOIL IS WRAPPED TOO FUCKING TIGHT.

3.) Friday night at my parents’ house I showed Ellie my (or Bob’s rather) first-gen iPod Nano and my cell phone without a QWERTY keyboard. The low-grade technology blew her 9-year-old mind. Oh kid…you have your own iPod touch and iPad mini, you have no idea the privileged life you lead.

4.) I have been insanely crabby for a solid week. I’m so ready to start hucking rocks at people.

5.) There are so many things I want to write about, but they’re nothing more than jagged fragments that don’t make sense. So instead, I hit play again on music by the guy who has worked his way into my top five most-played artists in a few short months.

6.) In other words…FIXATING.

The guy has lungs. And talent. And if that new album doesn’t get released this year…I’ll probably mope. A lot. I’m really good at moping.

Last Train Home
Ryan Star

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