Jeez O. Flip
Coming off of a weeks-long funk is sort of like waking up the morning after a multi-martini night face down on the carpet with your cowboy boots in the sink.
Honestly. The apartment is a disaster, the cat's upset, and I have an overwhelming sense of things I ought to be doing that I haven't been.
That means: writing and music, not necessarily in that order.
More later.
