One of those mind-sucking, soul-reaving hangovers that you don't realize you have until you've left the house. Made worse by stimulant overuse. You can't jump-start yourself out of a brainfog- too much caffeine and your brain misinterprets O_O for -_- and rising from the sludge just isn't going to happen.

Watched T2 with commentary. Snagged groceries, including new lights and garbage bags. Bedroom now has options of 70watt bounce light or dual 100watt nuclear test blast overheads. Did laundry. Gods that sucked. Showered. Zombied out into some sort of fucked up sleep paralysis "nap" for about thirty minutes. Went to the bar, told the landlord that the fridge is fuxx0r3d. Get to play phone tag on Monday.

There was some sort of solstice party thing that I was supposed to go to but didn't. I figured I'd rather spend a nice day with the windows open and T2 commentary than cringing as people I'll never be the least bit interested in having sex with hit on me relentlessly.

They're denser than I am. Which, all things considered, is fucking impressive. I could go on for paragraphs.**

Time to wind down and prepare for a week of OMFGWTF as I attempt to get the fridge fixed and contact my ex roommate, who I would have seen today at the party had I felt like getting sexually harassed for several hours. I'm supposed to be in Philly or some shit on Wednesday for a Skinny Puppy show. From what I've heard it's going to be a snooze- if I have to choose between being available for appliance replacement and not hearing assimilate played live, I'm opting for ice cubes.

** Simple logic. The hostess wants me there because she wants to hump me something fierce. I don't want to be there for exactly the same reason.