Bought some deodorant. Patrons of the library, rejoice.

 

I don't know where to begin. It felt like I had a ton of stuff to write about, but it has now all flown out of the window. This is a photographer/artist/hard to define named Michael Mapes, who takes pictures and arranges them on pins, in test tubes, on shards of glass, etc. And they all seem to come out as they should be.
 

Life has moved from a frantic rush to a full stop. I spent yesterday and most of the night composing and citing a fairly complex essay paper, and now that I have two more to write my brain is not cooperating. It does not want me to get up early in the morning. It does not want me to research or write. It wants to sleep and listen to music and think about sex and food and good books and write blog posts.

I crashed on FM's couch last, and stole some of her hot chocolate this morning. Mr. BM also stayed over and started throwing up this morning for some unknown reason. My opinion is that it may have been a combination of stress, lack of sleep, and lack of nutrition. I'm fairly worried about him, for a number of reasons.

There is a grumpy baby in the library. On an unrelated note, I had a dream last night that I threw a kitten down a flight of stairs. Don't worry, would never happen.