The world intrudes, and you remember it's still there.

No matter what, every single time, I still find that weird.

I have to go pick up my tickets for Neil Gaiman.

And then I think I'll type up that story.

And I keep thinking of this one. Is that stupid? I feel like that's stupid.

Time's a-wasting.

EDIT: I may actually be going to California. I have the greatest friends.