Whooooops forgot again. Whatever. I just ate night-breakfast at IHOP (“A little AM in you PM,” as my boyfriend put it) after watching a couple of crazy plays that may or may not have been about centaurs and satyrs. And now I’m about to go to sleep at my boyfriend’s place in Ingleside and YOU ARE NOT INVITED, NABLOPOMO.
I swear to God I will write a real thing tomorrow. Probably. Who knows. I AM A CREATURE OF MANY CAPRICIOUS WHIMS.