Friday was tears and soccer games and jeep wranglers and cold and guilt and boredom and mass production and paper mache and fajitas and margaritas and old friends and insults and the last supper and bowling and a bra that mum put through the wash and plays and pretty mouth and green my eyes and bitches and jealousy and trainspotting and driving home and swerves and tears and tears and sleep and tears.
Saturday was sleeping in and a farmers market and repair men and broken dryers and the library and cat fights and vets and out of tune guitars and making pizza and PBS and mom and my brother breaking curfew and SNL and sleep.
Sunday was waking up early and taking my meds and trying to talk to Rena and Rena being busy and doing my homework and taking a nap and tuning my guitar and planning my week and making onion soup and figuring out how much a camera costs and wearing my brother's sweatshirt and shoes and breaking up another cat fight and trying to breath and being in a state of blissful reverie and musing on trees and sleep and suicide.
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