I’m the kind of exhausted where I feel like the weather is a part of me.
We are the same.
Wet, grey, a little dark but in comfortable way. Days for hot cocoa and fires. Days where I feel like doing little that isn’t reading.
It’s 10 after 7. I went to bed a little under 13 hours ago. I woke up 8 hours ago, in my bosses’ house, and proceeded to double fist coffee and Red Bull in an attempt to prepare myself mentally for the show. Now I’m home, sprawled (collapsed) in my chair, feeling one of the good kinds of  exhausted, listening to trance around the world, and desiring nothing more than to sit here and read. Perhaps stare out the window. Of course I have too cook dinner, which is throwing a serious wrench in my plans, but even that’s alright. I like this feeling. this what I occasionally miss about Roget’s. This pleasant nostalgia, the exhaustion of having had a good time the night before, and the peace and quiet that comes from everyone being half asleep and a little hungover.
today is grey
-S
