I've been thinking, for the past couple of days, about how my body looks like a disease. A sun-poisoned, sweat-poisoned, plant-poisoned, bug-poisoned disease. An itchy, crampy, sleepy, liquid disease. Boo.
But all is well.
Today I made a bazillion cookies to sell tomorrow. Regardless of how this works out, I think it will be fun. There's an awful lot of support on my side, though, and I think we'll be fine. Casey and I are singing, anyway, so that will be nice in and of itself.
Let's see. Alienation has made a grand entrance again. It's either my fault or not at all. Who gives a toss? Nobody, and I shouldn't either. People love anyway. People will understand. Will they? Your mother will be coming downstairs to make breakfast. Will she?
I am so exhausted.