I'm glad March is over. A new month equals distance. Well. Every day equals distance, but this somehow seems more profound. It's easier to take in the morning; don't ask why. I desperately have to clean and then I'm going to spend the rest of the weekend writing my play and watching movies. Sooner or later I'll be so far away from this that it won't even matter anymore. Like the rows and rows of suburban houses you see out the window of the plane that's taking you far away from wherever you are that all look so small you kind of forget people actually live there. Just get me three thousand feet in the air, and I'll find some perspective.
28 days.
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