How the [bleep] is it May?

And where the freak have I been?

I don’t even know, man. I don’t even know.

That thing where I try to do more with my life than go to work and come home and go back to work goes on. It’s been rough lately, because the AC has been non-functional for two weeks. The weather hasn’t been too hot (thankfully!) but it’s just enough to throw everything off. I come home from work and it’s not hot in the house, but if I turn the stove on to cook dinner, it will be. So I wait, and I screw around until it’s cool enough to cook, and suddenly my whole evening is gone. Or I’m home on a Saturday afternoon and I could write, but it’s just a wee bit past “warm” and into “sleeeepy” and so I take a nap instead.

I’m trying to figure out how to make a bullet journal that isn’t an attempted work of art. I just want something to help me keep track, but my inner artist keeps trying to come out. So I’m never happy with it, and I forget to use it, and…

Barghle. How is it May already? Didn’t 2012 just start like five minutes ago?