in a mile you'll be feeling fine

i'm going to get a physical tomorrow, the kind where they take blood and everything, so i can't have anything to eat or drink (besides water, hopefully, because water seems harmless to me) between one in the morning and when i have my blood drawn, which should be around twoish or so. there's half a beer here, but i think the medicine i'm taking for my sinus infection is making me all fucked up when it comes to the drink, so i don't really want it. i'm too tired, and now is the time to just lay down.

i cut my hand with a bread knife, which is stupid because i was holding the roll in the exact same way my dad tells me to never hold anything, which i think of of every single time i hold something like that, but then i managed to cut it anyway. there is a lot of blood in your hands, which i'm sure i haven't thought about till now. that's "in," not "on."

still no word from county comma cook. i don't even know if i'd take the job, now.

i'm glad lyndsey is back on the blogging scene. she's a good one, and we've needed her. things have slowed down considerably, haven't they? maybe i won't blog at all during the bar exam. not at all?

i can't wait for steve to come home.