From 12 midnight:
Hanging out with best friend P. Decide it's a good idea to get under her couch. P. is frightened and leaves to take cookies to mutual friend F. From under the couch, I can see scooby doo on tv and reach the candy basket, so I am doing fine. It occurs to me that if P's roomate M. comes home, the first thing she will see upon walking into the door is my grotesquely oversized feet sticking out from under the couch. She may or may not be unpleasantly suprised by this discovery. M. does not return but P. does and we go for a walk in the pouring rain. Yuk. I am soaking wet now and getting tired. I say goodbye and drive home. My contact lenses feel like they are trying to scrape off the insides of my eyelids.

4 hours of sleep and then off to church. Not a happy camper. Why do I keep coming here I ask myself. Somehow I got tricked into being in a small skit the drama team was doing. Nothing too bad. My lines are "I'm Joe.", "God knows", "Well the way I look at it, god already knows what I'm thinking so I'm not sure I understand what the purpose of prayer is. If god already knows what I'm going to say before I say it, why even bother saying it", and "AGGHHH GOD GET ME OUT OF HERE!" Like I said, not too bad - at least I get to play a skeptic. I channel my natural scepticism into the part. I feel very much like tossing in "I have no idea whether god even exists, and if (s)he does, I am sure (s)he is digusted by all your attempts to stick h(er/im) into a little box like some kind of pet or a magic genie at best!" I refrain from this diatribe.

Home again, I eat cold mushroom pizza and kraft "radioactive yellow" macaroni and cheese for lunch. I have no intentions of doing my homework today. I turn on the idiot box while eating. Ooooh, football. Having trouble thinking of a less valuable way to spend my time. Off, vile box.

Having slept for two hours, I am awakened by the five year old down the street pounding on my door. Bang Bang Bang for a full ten minutes. Go away Bradley, I am sleeping, don't like you and do not want to play. The phone rings now anyway. Home phone. I ignore it. Ok now the cell phone. Persistent bastards. Don't you know I am sleeping? "Hello." "Hi are you sleeping?" It's Buddy (not the dog next door, although he is also named Buddy: this is my ex whose real name is D. I call her Buddy). "I was." "Sorry." Buddy proceeds to tell me about how much fun she had last night at a dance club. Buddy never wanted to go dancing with me. Buddy danced with a bunch of guys and nearly got groped. Woo hoo. I tell Buddy I went walking in the rain last night. I definitely had a better time. Goodbye Buddy I am going back to sleep.

Double stuff oreos, coffee for dinner. Noded around for a bit. 7:53 now and I have to go watch "pi" the movie and probably "the matrix" by myself. I love Sundays.