It's raining. I'm about to get in the shower. Then I'll drive to Culver City (again) and pick up my mom, and we'll go to Kaiser. I'm having a weird morning. Patrick is fighting a sore throat by sleeping in. Franny keeps walking around in front of me and looking at me: I know she doesn't want me to pick her up: it's not her thing (I'm only allowed to cuddle her in the bathroom... long story). I think she wants some of the leftover milk in my cereal bowl.
I think it's pretty funny and lame that even though I've been missing flesh and blood interaction with my friends for a longwhile now, last night after flute choir, I drove through the parking lot of the bar in Culver City where I knew at least one of them was hanging out and kept going instead of stopping in and having a drink, which I really wanted. I did the same thing, last week.
I need to think about this some more.