back went by with vindictive momentum.  Starting to feel the day, the still present dilation of the DC trip, the flight back, the drive back and trying to find my fucking car in Park SFO even though I took a picture.  Was just tired, my sight nor thinking nor patience or anything working right, working at all.

Took home some White Claw that Monique brought for the vent.  Not sure why.  That shit is disgusting, and some people I know that drink it, well, it’s no wonder they have it in their fridge.  It’s idiot soda, really.  That’s how I see it, and I’m sure I’ll get some reply to this, or some email, but prove me wrong. 

You actually drink that shit, I always have to say to myself but never really asking them or press them.  But who the fuck am I to say anything?  I had one today, and that’s why they’re in the fridge downstairs, on the other side of the door in my office, in the garage.

What?  It was really enjoyable while it was windy and hot and Mo’ and I were exhausting from the morning’s events and set-up…