Sunday, September 30, 2001
noon, phone rings "We're having brunch, you coming?" "No", I say flatly. "No?, but we're having brunch!" "No", the whole concept of looking for clothing, money, and finding the door is repugnant to me right now. Gosh, only one beer at 3 a.m., giving up on watching porn. Maybe there's something in Bart Simpson's Guide to Life to guide me thru this slow-moving day.