Sunday night personal

Last night, after I hadn't heard from E. by 11:00, I decided to drive up there to see if he was OK. (I guess I was freaking out a little over Whitney Houston's untimely death.) It was cold and I got my jeans on, etc., and packed a backpack. I then called at around 11:20 and he answered the phone. To make a long story short, I ended up spending the night there. (He'd even bought me some heavy socks with black soles to hide the dirt.) (He has a matching pair.) (And we were wearing them, since it was in the 40s outside.) (And no smoking inside.)

Drove back home early this a.m. and crashed.

Didn't do a thing all day except sleep and eat and cut my hair and shave for tomorrow.