6 in the morning, police at my door,
Fresh Adidas squeak across the bathroom floor
- Ice T
It's not quite 6 yet here and the po-po do not, in fact, have any interest in my little stamp of land in the woods (and if they did my bathroom window would not be conducive to escape), but here I am nonetheless, wide awake and trying to chase down and lasso my mind. Protip: if you are trying to fall asleep and having trouble, do NOT (I REPEAT: DO NOT) listen to Prince's Raindbow Children CD - that shit is some fucked up shit. Now I feel like I might be going a little bit crazy. Thanks Prince, you crazy fucker.
Speaking of crazy, my crazy aunt called me from the asylum last night (for realzies) and left me two crazy-ass messages. Actually she left one, but apparently after saying what she had to say the first time through she hung up and called back (all in her mind, because in realzies she didn't even miss a beat) and left a second , even more crazier message as if she had never left the first. It's pretty cool, I saved it. I probably have a little more of that to look forward to this week since my dad (who normally plays catcher to her psychotic phone pitches) is out of town at a convention for work. Good for him, I say, he could use the time off from teh crazy.
No, I'm not calling her back. I like to dip my toe in the pool of crazy to test the waters, but I don't know how to swim in it. I'm afraid I might drown.
OK, it's less than an hour before I have to get up for work, so I should be able to fall into a dead slumber now. Peace out, bitches!