I envelope myself in a warm layer this morning, hoping for one minute, a second of doubt. So I can, like some magical movie moment, speed out of the office doors and head out to...listless furrowed brow journeys. Like catatonic po(s)t stress incumbent (wesley?) feelings toward newborns. The weekend was full of addictions, near suicides (none my own) and my first visit to IKEA. I was scared.

Monday morning, this morning, I walked the dog, made the little one lunch for school, barley made my own and headed out the door, leaving the whole place a mess. Irene's going to kill me.

Band registration is tonight for g. My jeans are ripped and I'm i a little scared that all the parents are going to stare at me. But g is excited. So is Irene. So am I.