Sunday

I've wasted a whole weekend.
The only productive thing I've done is gone to the grocery store and car wash.
I'd kinda like to call in sick tomorrow so as to prolong my weekend. But I can't. I'm still working on being the perfect employee.

The weather today was perfect. It felt like February in Miami Beach. I wish I'd have taken advantage of it and spent the day outside.

I have an on-line friend that I've been chatting with for several years. He's from LA, an artist, writer and musician. He thinks I'm Sandra Bullock, and he is in love with her. No matter what I say to convince him otherwise, he's certain I'm her. He also claims to have written The Sixth Sense, and that the script was stolen from him. I think he might be Schizophrenic and Bi-Polar. But that's just a guess. I'm pretty sure he's harmless.