i borrowed the last harry potter book from heather last sunday evening. last night it got to the point of no return. the point where you cannot put the book down, and that basically left me finally drifting off to sleep with a finished book... at 4am. and then nightmarishly during my short 3 hours of harry potter filled sleep, archie persisted in bothering me. putting his nose right up to my mouth and sniffing. i wanted to kill him.

somehow i woke up at seven thirty, had a shower and did nothing to my hair. went to work with it wet. somehow i maded it through the day without too much difficulty. i bought archie and izzy their food, finally got our first free bag of cat food too. i came home, fed the felines, picked up my oprah magazine, lay down on my bed on top of the covers and barely made it through one page before falling dead asleep. when i awoke, around three hours later i was wrapped up like a pig-in-a-blanket and i couldn't tell if it was morning or what. then i remembered. i got up and went to the bathroom. my eye was bloodshot and my hair touselled and flattened. this is the consquence of reading. this is the sacrifice for a good story.