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I'm sore. It feels like someone beat the holy hell out of me. Why? The damn bed is too soft so the box springs make impressions on my flesh. I complained, so Dad put a slab of plywood under the mattress to try to help me out. If it doesn't work, I'm going to sleep on the couch. Or in the floor.

The bed is what inspired me to sleep in the floor last night. Mom woke me up at 7, after I only had an hour's sleep, and yell at me for it. So I had to move my shit off the top of the bed because I had to sleep there. I was too blurry-headed to argue my point, so just went to bed grumpy and compliant. And I woke up sore.

Mommy bought me fudgecicles and Code Red and Cheddar and Sour Cream chips (which no one likes but me) and other yummy things today. I love my mommy.

Tuesday and Wednesday I'm going to go hang out with Ali. Tuesday will be weapons creation and D&D, Wednesday will be a beatdown in the city park at 2. If anyone who reads this is in the area and wants to have fun with foam weapons, feel free to show up. The more the merrier.

I'm thinking of making a spear (or p'raps a chijikiri) and a mace, and maybe a variety of swords. :)

Sleepygirl and I seem to be in the same boat. We both miss college, we're both in dire need of a good backrub, we're both Celts, and we're nightowls. If only she lived closer, I says.

I'm goin'.

Slainte!

John-Boy