I thought you were my friend!

Yay! Miss ya!

Today’s Arlo appears to be sick of my bullshit.

Watching a Scottish show, and every other word on the closed captioning is “inaudible.”

Someone I know must be going to tomorrow’s Guster/Neko show at the Salt Shed, right?

Every eight weeks, I go to the same diner for breakfast (I’m not just neurotic, I’m in a particular place on that schedule for a reason, and I often see the same people here. I wonder if they’re here every Saturday, or every day for that matter, or just every eight weeks like me. 😂

Yesterday, my t-shirt from Wilco’s shows at Carol’s Pub; today, my “Good Luck with Whatever” Dawes t-shirt; both days, my Haruki Murakami novel.

Finally getting out for very brief snippets, yesterday and today. Coffee. Breakfast. After nearly two weeks of isolation. And it’s intriguing that everything on my person is sparking conversation with strangers.

Aside from taking the dog to the vet on Tuesday, I haven’t left the house since the evening of Aug. 13. Brutal. But in the meantime, I’ve framed a few pieces and excited to get them on the walls.

Funny, 27 is mine.