• The sound of light rain on the skylight, lulling me to sleep.
• The way the early-setting sun’s light falls on me while playing guitar and singing pitchily in my bedroom on an afternoon just after daylight savings.
• The sound of passing planes through the air vent above the stove.
• The way it’s impossible to see what’s on the television screen at around 8:30pm during the summer time.
• The way my bed shakes lightly when people downstairs walk around too heavily on their heels.
• The view from the back deck of the surrounding evergreens, the DSHS parking lot, and the tall illuminated central spire of the hospital.
• Four words: porch light dimmer switch.
• The sound of the wind chime attached to the front door when someone comes home.
• The bathroom mirror that takes up nearly an entire wall.
• Walk-in bedroom closet.
• The “Elizabeth Caval” pukey spot in the living room (don’t ask).
• The quirky suns with happy faces drawn clandestinely in corners around my room and the sticker that says “You are here” behind the door in my closet, all of which were there before I moved in.

And yet still many more that I can’t think of at the moment. My lease ends this coming July and I will be moving elsewhere, after having lived here for two years.

• Email professor and give lame excuse as to why I am not in class today. Write poem that was supposed to be due. End up unhappy with result.
• Email internship faculty supervisor and catch her up on 4 weeks of what I’ve been doing at my internship, emails which should have been sent each week.
• Sit alone in room.
• Scan stupid handwritten notes and/or stupid random shit that I’ve found and think is mildly funny.
• Spend a minimum of fifteen minutes dreaming of living alone.
• Spend a minimum of ten minutes dreaming of driving across country alone.
• Spend a minimum of five minutes writing retarded fucking blog post, pitying self.
• Realize I’ve been making unconscious efforts to isolate self from surroundings and others over the past two years.
• Further realize that said isolation does not make me creative, smarter, more interesting, or more philosophically deep and that attempts to isolate self in order to be creative would largely be a waste of time, because it follows that any output will be equally as uninteresting, stupid, and self-serving.
• Check Tumblr, Twitter, Gmail, Flickr, and Facebook a minimum of five times each, none of which will be updated. Check anyway.
• After forty-five minutes of doing useless shit while sitting at desk, shirk all responsibility and play X-Box instead.
• After two hours, feel like a total dickhead, then try to bandage self-depricating feelings by pretending not to care and assuring self that not caring makes me cooler (when in fact it does not).

I’ll get started in a second, I swear.

• Blogosphere
• Purchasing power
• Artsy fartsy
• “Sketch”
• Awkward turtle
• Lou Dobbs

• Squier Tele Custom
• ETY ER-20  Earplugs
• Sigg water bottle
• Ferrania Solaris 35mm color print film
• Black Chicken Kid tee
• Macbook Pro
• Harvey Birdman, Vol. I and II
• Asahi Pentax K1000