This Saturday was spent at a friend's place drinking whiskey, eating home made brownies, playing rock band 2 and talking about general crap. I got home quite late and decided it to get up around 2 in the afternoon the following day. Appearantly my subconsciousness wanted something else as I must've murdered my alarm in my sleep that night. Why else would I wake up at 18:45 on a Sunday? I slept 2 hours the following night, but I kinda regret sleeping at all since it only made me more tired.

It's now 18:08 and I don't know how the hell I'm gonna stay awake 'till dinner. (At least this gives me a stupid reason to update my journal hardly anyone ever reads anyway.)

Somebody fucking kill me already.