Stale (I meant to post this morning)
The cold snap came a day earlier than promised - I dressed entirely under the covers this morning. My feet are still cold.
Dream typewriter: My pretty new friend, so attractive, betrayed me. I was exiled to the wilderness of California. I knew how to get by, though. My hair was so long, and the soldiers were friendly.
Why bother with any of it, really? It's all stale by now.
Lucy cleaned the kitchen on Wednesday.
That's all.
