This is another odd day. It could almost be a poem? Or maybe a song lyric? Anyway. Apparently Thursday was not terribly interesting. What I CAN tell you from this day (and probably the previous) was that Scibetta and I had a work station set up in the Miles common room, and we both pumped out our essays while lounging about on those sofas, me with my obnoxious cast, he with his obnoxious keyboard. Good times there.

Day 90 thursday

Cool spider outside the door as a moth flies into the window over and over while I finish my research paper. Wrote a song.