If I were Megan, I think that I would feel slightly awkward working at two different places that are right across the street from each other.

This is why I hate summer. Nothing significant ever happens in my life from the end of May to the beginning of September. Summer excitement for Anna is picking up another shift and then immediately doing the math to figure out how much my next paycheck is going to be. Why my obsession with money? It's stifling.

I think that I just need to get my car fixed so that I can get my ass out of the house. That would definitely be good for me. And I need to spend some time around other people that I actually like (read: Not my family or the fuckers that I work with).

I also hate summer because I lose all sense of time. I never know what day it is, I never know what time it is. It's like I'm stumbling through the darkness.

I'm eating saltines right now. God, I love bland crackers. I'd been going through withdraw lately, but we stopped by Aldi's the other day and stocked up.

I finally got new bedding. I got a dark purple comforter and ended up settling for white sheets because the sheets that went with the comforter were shit. But the sheets are 250 thread count and are Martha Stewart. I don't really care about any of her inside trading. All I know is that Martha comes up with some really great color schemes for her line. When I move out, everything's going to be Martha. (The added benefit to buying Martha is that I get a discount because its Kmart.) I got some more pillows, too. Part of my motive in buying new bedding was that I just wanted to make my bed prettier (my old sheets were dark green and I had a plaid comforter, fit for any careless bachelor). But the other part of it is that I want to be ready for any cuddling that might take place . . . at any point in the future.

Or maybe I don't want there to be any cuddling because I like to have my bed all to myself and I'm enjoying my alone time.

No, cuddling would be okay.

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