Wednesday, April 7

Like a Slumber Party... For Grown Ups.

Just look at that time stamp. Hanging out with Ali is ruining my sleep-life already.

After a day of driving to New Orleans and hammering out the logistics, we're all finally here, settled in to an unexpectedly amazing house near the French Quarter.

So far it's only Ali, Ray, Zach, and I - sitting around the dining room table drinking tea and beer (respectively) - but apparently some other wankers are going to show up tomorrow to try to break into our clique. Haven't they seen this movie?

I feel obligated to be awake and working since everyone else is doing it. I'm sitting here, about to pass out at the keys, trying to look busy. How do other people have brain function with this little sleep? I'm having a difficult time spelling, let alone... braining.

Oh, in extremely important news, I lightly grazed a Belgium paver in the driveway and completely screwed up the bumper of my Prius. And yes, I will probably complain about it for the rest of the weekend year.

Okay this is ridiculous, I don't care if they put my underwear in the freezer or draw on my face with sharpies; I'm going to sleep.