Clean, glorious clean

I took a bath today.

I had to, as I had no shower curtain.

I wish I had been bright enough to bring my brain, I mean, notebook into the library with me, but there you go. Rather than leave half the people I know with the wrong address, I will simply wait to post it. It has a land line. I will have to get a calling card to make outgoing long distance calls, but those are $5 at Wal-Mart.

Yeah, I don't know the phone's number, either. It's like you know me or something.

I think my sis, via mom, gave me a spare card. I have no idea where it is. And, anyway, I will probably use the entire thing to speak to Michela, whom I miss terribly.

One of my roommates has not been seen.

The other plays drums, and keeps his full kit in his room.

Charming. I mean, he's charming. A nice kid. I intend to fill his brain with King Crimson.

I see lots of little kids down here. My sub-lessor is father to a six year-old with way too much energy.

I pointed Gregg from Pfizer here via email. All my Pfizer buddies should be warned that I keep saying I will post about why I made this move (aside from the blatant, financial reasons) but I never do. I will. Someday. When I have the Internet access and the time. And a monitor. And a keyboard. And maybe a mouse. (Hey, I live in a building filled with parental wealth-burning, stupid college kids. I should go through the trash!)

My skin feels weird. Almost like air, and drafts, are getting to it or something. Almost like I'm... exposed.

I think I should retrieve my brain and eat, now. Oh, and I no longer look like General Longstreet. I was trying to trim around my goatee until I lost my mind to burning impatience to get in that tub and, hey—no more hair.

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