It's Sunday, after 2pm. I'm still drinking the pot of coffee I brewed almost 2 hours ago. I'm still in my pj bottoms and tank top. I'm still feeling the effects of a wee too much vodka and other toxins. There is still sleep in my eyes mixed with mascara. I'm listening to a play-list titled 'mellow'. It's bright outside, the sun is streaming through my blinds lighting me up. It looks chilly out, but it's so cozy in here. I'm thinking of what to do with the picture frames we found last night, discarded in front of some random Parkdale home. I'm hoping they don't carry bed bugs. I think I'll frame those pics of my mom and dad when they were my age, living in San Fransisco, drinking martinis, smoking cigarettes and having, although never confirmed by either parent, Key Parties.
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