So, I've been feeling a little down the past week or so. Nothing really terribly important, just another of the inevitable downswings in the rock and rollercoaster lives that we all live. I appreciate these little downturns (within reason of course), since without lows we can't have highs. And if there's anything I like, it's the highs.

Anyway, between work stresses, some personal life issues, phases of the moon, etc, I was a little grumpy. Decided to walk home after work to think about some things and get a little exercise. Got home after about an hour or so, and I wasn't really feeling all that better, and to boot I was tired. So I enter the apartment and lay down in the couch, and the more time I spend on the couch, the more upset I get and the less motivated I get to get up. A couple of hours pass, and I notice that I haven't really moved all that much. It was somewhat reminiscent of some periods in my childhood where I would lay down on the floor of my bedroom in the dark and listen to The Cure's Disintegration on repeat. I was just really down. But there's this big commotion outside, so I rouse myself off the couch and stick my head out the window, whereupon I see 4 fire engines, 20 cops, and a crowd of people around my apartment, including everyone who lives here. Realizing that there is often a direct correlation between fire engines outside a building and a need to get the hell out of there, I put some things in a bag and headed out.

What we learned from the guys from the EPA and DEP was that the people who moved into the commercial space downstairs had been spraying epoxy all day, and so the entire apartment building was full of glue fumes. I had been getting more and more depressed because I had been huffing glue for the hours I was laying in my living room. That made me feel significantly better about the entire thing.

20 days or so until Ton gets into town. Signed up for the Pseudo-Science Fair at what is more and more obviously the best place in the entire borough of Brooklyn to get a drink in a laugh, Galapagos. Found this site, Puppy Recycling, which made me laugh somewhat. Lost two teeth in the past three weeks, which is doing nothing for my self-image but for some reason has done wonders for my love life (I assume I'm being more charming to overcompensate, but maybe girls just like the gaptoothed look these days. I'd be equal parts psyched and disturbed if poor dental hygiene were to become the next hip thing. Makes just about as much sense as leg-warmers and rain boots on sunny days as far as I'm concerned. At least I'd be far ahead of the curve).