Actually, I don't have much to say. It's hot as hell here, in the 90s, and the neighborhood is filled with its usual sounds: kids sassing each other, someone using a chainsaw, car doors slamming, etc. The air is hot and opressive. I really want to drink a cold Coke, but I've been trying to stay away from them, especially while I'm on my hiatus from the gym while Mason is still out of school.
I wrote very little in the past few days. I have no one to blame but myself. Instead, Mason and I go
Published on May 21, 2009 00:06