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Location: Home.
Listening: "I Kissed A Girl" by Jill Sobule.

Excerpt from a letter I wrote to Peter last night at midnight before bed:

Just wanted to write and say goodnight...off to bed only to be up again in about 3.5 hours to move my car (not so bad, though, as I parked it on Broadway, in front of 7-11. This as a result of my going to meet Williams to get Austin's keys at 7, Williams not coming home (getting off work) til 10 or so unexpectedly, rushing to Austin's, feeding and playing with Bear, home to the 710 blocked for construction, long route via 7th, 7 cop cars in a line blocking First Street (I have no idea), etc.

Was up this morning at 5, actually. I looked at the clock, had a small cardiac (street sweeping starts at the heathenish hour of 4 here), threw jeans on and bolted to my (currently un-registered and ever-so-towable) car to find it, miraculously, still there and without a ticket. Moved it, trundled back home and tried to get half an hour more of sleep. Worked through lunch, helping various clients deal with their lost paperwork problems, and then took off to the mall for some frenzied shopping before having dinner with friends in LA in about *looks at watch* two hours.

So I'll be sleeping like a rock tonight, after getting about four hours night before last and about the same last night. If I'm lucky, I won't fall face-first into the meal tonight. Of course, I'll probably get caught up in conversation, manage to drag myself to Austin's and pass out on his couch (his house being the halfway point between dinner and home). That's my prediction anyway. Wish me luck.