The close of Monday...

So it turns out that my eight hour shift became nine and a half, as my fellow coworkers (two, actually) started dropping like nauseous, congested flies. I ended up staying to close the store, freaking hungry, tired like a bitch, and got nothing done. Sigh. I can barely even remember this morning.

There was a message waiting for me from the college when I got home. I'll have to call them tomorrow.

It has also reminded itself to my attention that I can't watch war movies, at least historical ones. My brother and dad flipped to Hamburger Hill as I microwaved some dinner for myself... and I just stared at my potatoes, trying my best to tune it out. I'm trying to write a story about a postapocalyptic world, complete with war, deception, violence, anatomy, sex, and dismemberment, and I will refuse to watch any modern depiction of war from the last century.

It's not my thing.

So. Tired.

Kai, though, has taken to sleeping right in the curve of my chest, or sometimes literally beside my head, purring into sleep.

I still miss the snake.