What a fucked up day. Everything's up in smoke again. It's the revenge of the Marlboro Man (1954-1998).
Got mad at my daughter because she got careless and let her tax situation get out of hand, and now it'll cost her lots of time and money to get it back. I had to call her back and apologize profusely. Actually, I didn't have to, I wanted to.
Didn't exercise. Didn't shave. Screw it. Go Away. Don't bother me.
I think I'll see if I can salvage something positive by doing a good job of filling out those monster insurance forms. I wonder how long the insurance company will drag their feet to avoid giving us our money? Actually, if I do a good job on the forms, they'll procrastinate a lot less longer than they'd be able to otherwise.
My new job: do what's in front of you (as Janice always says). Don't complain; stop whining. Eat whole, raw foods, and legumes with vegetables. Put an extra blanket on the bed, either in the winter or in Washington State. Sleep with a light and you got it beat, as long as you remember to turn down the heat.
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