Ended the day at the preschool, boys strapped into their seats, the Jeep dead of--what? despair? Got a ride home in the tow truck.
Rest of the day wasn’t much to write home about either. Crabby baby. Fits and starts at the keyboard. No gym.
Won’t start the list of people and things I’m sick of, because, well, what would be the point. In fact, is there a point? Ever? To anything?
Gotta get this long piece out of my hair. Move on to something new. Even if it’s the same shit on a different day, at least it’ll be a different day. F-all!