Karla didn't win Top Chef.
On Thursday, my stomach hurt so much I left work. I believe I am working on getting myself an ulcer.
I'm not moving into a new place in May, after all.
One of my cousins died. He was only 21.
Ugh. There's not much I can say to that last bit of bad news, except sometimes it's unbelievable how much this world really sucks.
To counteract the bad/sad vibes:
I'm over Karla not winning.
I'm taking a lot of Tums and cutting back on chocolate and coffee.
I'll give my apartment a real cleaning tonight.
I'll write, same as I've been doing, in a never-ending quest to understand this world.
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