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Ugh. I didn't dream last night - well, I'm sure I did but I don't remember it. I hate that feeling, it leaves me empty and unsatisfied and a little bit frustrated. Of course, my dreams as of late have been frustrating in nature (note to self: stop watching Project Runway) so I suppose nothing is better than waking up feeling like a complete sham.

I'm back on the beach again, so I'm sitting here drinking my v8. It's not as horrible as I remember it! I would have made eggs but I'm out of cooking spray and I really hate having eggs stick to my frying pan. Bad.

Been cleaning as of late, like I'm preparing for a visit - but I know no one is coming.

I love walking the block down Washington to the 'Burg to get my lunch every day. We've had low lying clouds that have been eating the tops of the buildings. They just fade away into light and fog.

My fingers itch for writing, yet I have nothing to say.
 
 
 
 
 
 
I say, write, write, write! Even if it seems stuid. I like creative writing exercises. Just making crap up is amusing to me, but I'm a freak!