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This is the last thing Kasey sees before she goes to sleep. This exact face. Pray for her.

Sitting here in my chair I experience an absence of snug security across my torso, like I should have a seatbelt on. My Gmail inbox is full of mail I need to go through. Business stuff. Monster job search results, reminders to pay bills, a letter from my apartment complex, a hello from my new complex, a test for a job I hope to get in Virginia.

Oh yeah, the job. Help Desk Team Lead, or something like that, for Dollar Tree. The ironic thing is dollar stores depress the shit out of me. Always have. I have complained while inside to the point of speedy leaving and flat out refused to enter them before. And now it seems I'll be supporting them. I'd be in an office building, supervising fixers and ordering repairs, etc. Sounds good.

Last night I lay in bed with a cigar and a warm body next to mine, watching a movie in the dark. It was fabulous. Soothing to the max.

I have so much shit to do but no motivation to do it. I just need to make myself, but it's so damn hard. Anyone want to come box my shit up for free food and good media while they're doing it? I'll even buy meat if you want it.

Okay, worky time. Have a good one.

- David

Great words won't cover ugly actions
Good frames won't save bad paintings