fruit plate + mojitos = trouble
I feel as though i've been run over by a truck. A truck carrying fruit. And Highball glasses.

I'm not sleeping well this week, probably from residual stress. Or maybe it's just going around. Either way, the living room floor has never looked so inviting. I'm listening to my coffeehouse shimmy mix in an effort to wake up without ingesting any more coffee... so far the Combustible Edison is just making me long for the horizontal. (The Twilight Zone controls the horizontal, my head says helpfully) Also the birds have eaten all the food in the feeder again, running through the entire lot in just two days, which indicates to me that they are greedy monkeys and also that this will be an expensive way to entertain the cats (and lets be honest, myself). (It also controls the vertical, so really it's Rod Serling's fault you can't lie down...) I should eat something that is not unlike food. (what, are you too tired for paragraph breaks?) And I should go argue with myself somewhere you all don't have to read about it.

Point: I am dusting off my deplorably rusty mix making skills, and anyone who wants to guinea for me should speak up. Yes.