Phantom Gourmet's not really the same without Billy Costa, still beats thinking about my life. Lying in a pile with Peretz, keeping each other warm, he's a good dog.
Should probably be doing household chores, fuck it.
Thinking about heading out later to pick up some escapist literature, not sure what would fit the bill, reading anything remotely serious draws me back toward serious concerns which frankly, right now, are pretty unbearable. House is full of pretty serious books, a bunch of nonserious ones as well, but I've read all of those. Wishing I had some of those hardbound scifi omnibus editions my dad has so many of, they got me through some rough times as a kid.
Being a grown up sucks. Groan, upchuck.