milk and honey.

"I'll show you where the flowers never grow"

In the past week I've experienced, in summary, a rainbow, a dead dog and lots of rain. All of which, or so I find, are suitable guests to this abrupt and adamant feeling.

I have $25 and some change to last me until next Friday. This should make the next seven days nearly impossible.

I find it relatively amusing that people are so concerned about this pandemic. I'm not sick and my immune system is doing just fine. I'm more concerned about that silly little organ situated comfortably underneath my breastbone. It's not beating the same these days.

I accidentally felt up several female mannequins today. They are much too stubborn to move on their own, so my hands did all the work.

I desperately want a motorcycle. I want to sell my car, buy a motorcycle, move to the countryside and open a pie shop. I'll just bake pies and tend to a garden. Did I mention I would have a garden, too? Because I would. And a weathered wooden fence and creaky porch steps.

Even when I'm running late, I'm always early.

I'm running out of eyelashes to pull.