If I had to live without my mp3 player at this point, I'd die.

So, my crazy on-again off-again friend, who had for the past four years been entertaining herself elsewhere with booze and drugs, has figured on me as the single axis upon which her social life turns. And in the process is nipping off my checkbook.

Anyway, my room needs repainting, and so does my door. And I need a lock on that fucker. HAH, I know what I'm doing tomorrow. Beginning operations on getting my door back to a presentable pristine white state.