3-12 Wed.
The little old round Hawaiian lady, Diana Watanabe, is blabbing, holding us up from bailing. I'm feeling zonked even thought I slept plenty. Got to teach again tonight. I just go in there and wing it for two and a half hours. I haven't puffed much lately. I don't want to get high before teaching night class, and when I get home, I'm tired and not creative and figure it will only knock me out and be a waste. This Saturday can be Write-All-Day day. I'm taking Shirelle to Yamashiro's for a 7:45 reservation Friday. There might be some true nature in this format learning styles. I got Gramma's car smogged yesterday. It only took about fifteen minutes or so.
Phyllis Scantron was kind enough to pick me up for the drive out to Torrance today. We're going to drive back to LA now.
I'm home now. Shirelle just called from Christina's. I said I'd tuck her in. She said she'd be here in about twenty minutes. Maybe we'll bone. Glen said, "God." I said, "What?" He said, "I can't find my shit." I said, "What shit?" He said, "My shit." I said, "Oh." He said, "Exactly." I didn't say anything. He said, "My vodka." He said, "Please don't tell my brother." I said, "OK." I guess I'll have a beer since Shirelle is coming over. Maybe I'll have that puff, too. Will I be able to read at all? Damn o damn. What else? I just typed my fifteen minutes. It was trouble writing that much. I called my sister back, but she was on the other line to someone in Florida. I'll go have that puff. Maybe something will come of it for the next page. Probably this stupid movie will suck up my thoughts. Shirelle's bug just buzzed up. What'll it be? There's a little dick in my class with a bug who made me edgy. Bliss from a popsicle.
The little old round Hawaiian lady, Diana Watanabe, is blabbing, holding us up from bailing. I'm feeling zonked even thought I slept plenty. Got to teach again tonight. I just go in there and wing it for two and a half hours. I haven't puffed much lately. I don't want to get high before teaching night class, and when I get home, I'm tired and not creative and figure it will only knock me out and be a waste. This Saturday can be Write-All-Day day. I'm taking Shirelle to Yamashiro's for a 7:45 reservation Friday. There might be some true nature in this format learning styles. I got Gramma's car smogged yesterday. It only took about fifteen minutes or so.
Phyllis Scantron was kind enough to pick me up for the drive out to Torrance today. We're going to drive back to LA now.
I'm home now. Shirelle just called from Christina's. I said I'd tuck her in. She said she'd be here in about twenty minutes. Maybe we'll bone. Glen said, "God." I said, "What?" He said, "I can't find my shit." I said, "What shit?" He said, "My shit." I said, "Oh." He said, "Exactly." I didn't say anything. He said, "My vodka." He said, "Please don't tell my brother." I said, "OK." I guess I'll have a beer since Shirelle is coming over. Maybe I'll have that puff, too. Will I be able to read at all? Damn o damn. What else? I just typed my fifteen minutes. It was trouble writing that much. I called my sister back, but she was on the other line to someone in Florida. I'll go have that puff. Maybe something will come of it for the next page. Probably this stupid movie will suck up my thoughts. Shirelle's bug just buzzed up. What'll it be? There's a little dick in my class with a bug who made me edgy. Bliss from a popsicle.
posted by johnz at 11:36 PM
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