Listening to EELS and drinking a Henry Weinhard's ale and it's raining and gray and the bus was filled with wan-faced college kids cruising from campus to the student housing up the street and I came in the door of the apt and it smelled like sugar and sweet and my baby left the lights on for me and there was a letter from the little sis filled with Poor Bear font and news from the East and, and, and shit, I'm blue for no fucking reason beyond music and atmosphere and I hate, Hate, HATE coming home to an empty home 'cause I love my baby, love my girl, love my monkey and want to just hold her all the night long.

And, dammit, I'm still missing my kids.

*Bah*

Gonna go see what FARK's got to say today. Never mind me. Gotta get off that fucking bus, I think.