Buried Shoebox Love

What is there to a Saturday night in my misty world? For starters, I sit cross legged to keep my toes warm because I don't know how to turn on my apartment's rusted, moderately dangerous looking heater. When I realize the spiders have begun to spin long strands of my hair into their webs, hours are spent defensively scrubbing the darkest corners of my living space (which I strongly suspect may be the most action those baseboards have seen in years). After a good amount of harassed brooding, I realize it's time to concoct an exit plan... as colorful and far-fetched as my mind can possibly make it. Even when my energy levels are at their most threadbare, it's my restless ambition that always seems to hoist me up and into the tangled, unknown fray. That's what brought me out here in the first place, right?

Onward.