(no subject)

Sitting here, bleary-eyed and wearing my obnoxious Cheshire Cat shirt. Drinking Red Zinger tea in an effort to beat this cough, though I suppose smoking a cigarette is counter-affecting that somewhat. Red Zinger is my new crack.

I was going to go into work today for a few hours, but fuck that shit.
I was going to drive to Delaware for cigarettes, but fuck that shit.
I was going to clean up the small mess in the kitchen, but fuck that shit.
I was going to hit Target for cat litter and paper plates, but fuck that shit.

Only woke up a half hour ago, much to the displeasure of the cats. They are so used to being fed around ten o'clock, that this one-thirty shit just will not do.

My brother's gone to Vermont for a snowboarding weekend, so I have the apartment entirely to myself and completely quiet. And the only real responsibility I have today is to write a damned Saint Dymphna presentation for tomorrow night. I'm not used to this, not running around like a chicken with its mad, little head cut off. And I can't really get used to it.

I have yet to go back to the nursing home to pick up the rest of my mother's belongings, but I can't bring myself to do that. Not yet.