I do not want to be awake right now. It�s overcast and I�m exhausted and I would love to spend the day in bed eating soup and reading. Doesn�t that sound marvelous?

I love the wolfboy. He told me to move. He says I�m too old for the college party crowd and too young to die and that I need to get something else, somewhere else. He�s right. We discovered that we are the exact same age. He says he doesn�t want to work. He just wants to play his saxophone and hang out with his dog and read. I love him, I do. Why oh why didn�t I meet him when I first started this job? He�s only got one more week here. I told him I�m contemplating Colorado. He said hell yeah you�re moving to Colorado. He said I would be perfect for Colorado and Colorado would be perfect for me. We'll see.

Today is brother Dan�s 24th birthday. He�s in California, hopefully at Oliver�s. Oliver was worried (and hopeful, I have to say) that Dan would be gone by today. We�ll see if I can catch him there. Dan-Jo Banjo. That�s what we called him when he was a kid. And Danny. My dad would always serenade him with �Oh Danny Boy.� He�s so good and smart and lovely and witty and kind. He is completely incapable of caring for himself. He�s the sort of boy you want to take home and feed. He inspires the caregiver in nearly everyone he comes in contact with, which is why he�s lasted this long. I hope he gets better. I hope he wants to get better. Cheers Danny my closest brother, my heart�s twin.

Coming in to work today I was practically in tears, thinking how great it all is. It's ridiculous, tracking my moods. But I am grateful. I have a house to come home to, with no other person in it. Sanctuary. Basho. Harold & Miss Blue. Company. My job, which I enjoy. Security. Structure. Ritual. All good. And the sunrise this morning. And the music on my radio (Blue Mountain). Let me be like this, just for a little while, just for now.