wake up, and it's already 11am. morning is practically gone and you're ready for lunch. you're waiting and waiting and waiting for a call, trying desperately to find something to do to pass the time. desperate enough to even clean your room. or start it, at least. finally you get the call and you wait some more.
did that really happen?
is it possible for time to feel like it's going by too fast and too slow at the same time?
tuesday feels far.
i miss my old writing.