I'm so over this.

I went to bed after Bobbi left for work this morning. 3AM? 4AM? I have no clue.

I woke up at 8AM, when a frantic cat managed to rouse me.

I tried to go back to sleep, but couldn't. I lay in bed for another three hours, mostly staring at the ceiling and listening to the TV drone in the background.

I made it to the range. The Glock 39 is still not fixed. I've got about one thing left to try before I just mail it to Glock in frustration.

The empty box of crushing disappointment bolted to the front of the house just made the clanking noise with its lid, indicating that the mailman has been here. He left me nothing.

I couldn't tell you what time it was on a dare, except that the mailman comes between 3:30 and 6:00 so it's probably in there somewhere.

Waking up today was a mistake.

Maybe tomorrow.
.