Today I really tried to be productive. I think I parly succeeded. I did plan to have a few assignments sorted out, but I only managed to do my fiction. I'm up to a second draft and I'm fairly satisfied - it is about an unstable man who is incredibly deluded. When I woke up I had many an idea in my head, but this is the one that came out when I began writing.
I spent a good part of my day fuguring out what to write and drinking tea, although I am now drinking wine, having just finished watching Harold and Kumar, the wine is finished too.
I procrastinated award-winningly throughout the day, I laid down for most of it and listened to beautiful Elliott Smith songs.
The picture above (I'm uncertain how to move them downward) sums up my day. Laying down in a mixture of thought and sadness, and getting duvet button markings on me. Yup. The sadness is not applicable to this blog though. This is reserved for output and funny observations.
Observations, like the carer I met the other day - He was Spanish and really had the look of a young Javier Bardem about him. Mmm. Haha.
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