Snap to Cold

I am not quite sure why the only major thing I've accomplished since leaving work is to eat quiche. In my defense, it was homemade. In counter-self-attack, I did use a crust mix and the sheet at Healthworks about avoiding funny fats listed mixes like that as a possible source. Anyway, I defied the wisdom of the guy at Common Ground and bought milk elsewhere since he had none to sell me. He probably is the smart one to avoid the stuff, but I don't believe this "drink milk today you can die tomorrow" line. I mean, come on Chicken Little, you're being overdramatic and of course there are issues about the quality of the life that you live. Still I would love to eat and drink raw dairy. Not necessarily exclusively, but it doesn't scare me. I just consume small amounts of the normal varieties, plus some almond milk and whatever else I can get. Might be slightly illogical of me.

I did buy the Yogi Tea Cold Season blend and I probably have had it before, but it seems like it'll be good. It's steeping right now. I get home from a coffeehouse only to drink hot beverages in my free time. It's almost all I do, aside from fiddling with my computer, going to odd auditions and worrying about my living situation.

So I got no word from Acton, no callback. No surprise. Acton's just too edgy for me, I'm sure. Well, after I visit an apartment in the Readville section of Hyde Park, I'm on to the Lynnway McDonald's to powwow with some people putting on a production of Rocky Horror. No lie. This could be pretty rock'n'roll...or pretty community college. We'll see. I'm going to put on some raisin eyeliner to match my deep purple nails and some glittery lip gloss from Hot Topic, along with my mostly black work outfit, and going in casual punk attire to yell Eddie or Time Warp or Light at the Frankenstein Place in a random public space in the City of Sin. The Golden Atches will never be the same. Wesley Willis, anyone?