My TV is blaring because I'm trying to pretend I'm not home alone right now. Being by myself at night frightens me at times...yes, I'm afraid of the dark and yes, I have a very overactive imagination.

Moving sucks, very much so. Too many trips up and down the steps carrying heavy objects makes my legs want to give out on me. Other than getting the last of our things moved, I had a fairly unproductive day: Went to school. Scoffed at guy in English class' assertion that God is really in fact a man. Recited poem in French, did okay until the last three lines and blanked for an uncomfortable twenty seconds or so. Came home, opened the bedroom windows, and watched the movement of the clouds from my bed. Helped Dave get some stuff from his old house. Came home, cuddled with the boy. Drank orange ginger mint tea. Avoided homework by making pointless lists on my diaryland page.

Ah, sweet, sweet lists.

Our party (the swank martini one) may actually happen! Except it's now labeled a "get together".


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