Give us peace.

I read a book. It was an autobiography, The Moon's A Balloon, by David Niven. In it he discusses a theory about weeds. One should be slightly worried about your garden if it is perfect. (Or at least that's the way I remember it.)

Phone calls happened today. It looks as though, if everything goes smoothly, I will be in business in February. I have a lead on an apartment. Finally, Mr. Urbane called and said his X-mas present earned him $51. It makes me feel slightly uneasy to think things might work out well. I should drink more.

I sure hope all my loved ones are safe and sound, and enjoying the snow (if they have it). Also, maybe Jillo and the Homies can hook up in K-ville. Everyone can hug each other!

I sure don't know how I'm gonna cram all my stuff into Mammy and Pappy's. Night, night.