oak

i had a dream about you last night. we were eating at Fred's and you started yelling at me about Bukowski and I hit you on the head with one of his books somehow.
Then Linda showed up and we were suddenly in Austin at Katz's eating fried pickles, and then all these wierd San Fran rockabilly guys form the tattoo shop next door to my house showed up and then suddenly we moved again and were in your kitchen and Henry was laying on the floor moaning about having to do all the dishes.
Seriously.
this is my brain when deprived of gourmet food for too long I think...

blert.

is it possible to still be slightly hungover four days later? i haven't had a drop to drink but all i want to do is sleep when i am at home.