Strawberry Vodka Critique's Another Sunday

I can still smell the strawberry vodka and sprite on my desk from last night. It turned into Sunday again. I hate Sundays. I really don't know why... just a feeling, I guess. It was cool and cloudy and I woke up late and nothing felt right. Not much does, but here and there are a few things worth feeling. Strawberry vodka, a blonde, and some dancing. That's alright to me.

I'm thinking about running away again. I think I might be joining the Americorps and going somewhere probably a good distance from this place again. My first bet is on Portland, but I wouldn't mind Maine or Washington. Hell, even Alaska would be alright by me. Just to get away, and with some purpose at that, would be a nice thing. I've got some hefty decision making to be doing here in the next year or so. I have to put up stakes somewhere soon and not run away so quickly. It's tough sometimes to decide the who's and where's of most importance.

Blah blah blah, enough of that shit.

Yes, yes, I am dry and empty today. That I think is my contributing factor to my hate for Sundays. Never a clear thought. Well, the weather's changing again with another year nearly done, yet again without resolve.

-youknowwhodammit.