I woke up an hour late this morning. Rushed around, trying to find something to wear. Everything I have is dirty, wrinkled, sweated in, or covered in cat hair. I think I'm supposed to do laundry, but I know I've got one more good wear out of that black tee shirt.
Clean panties count: several pairs.
I've reached the point where I've stopped worrying about the new car and have begun worring about the old car. Apparently I have to smog it before I can sell it. Unless my sister buys it, but she won't be able to fix the breaks. I should just junk the whole thing. It's not worth it.
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