Is what I’m listening to right now; the movie soundtrack. It’s 1:58 a.m. I exercised with Will today, so I’m plenty tired. Lately, I seem to be returning to my pre-injury/assault sleep patterns: up late, writing; napping,if need be, in the afternoons.
I don’t know if it means anything, but I like it.
Arguing for my independence with my trust lords has gotten really old, really fast. See, I’m like a poor man’s Brittany Spears: all my money is in a special needs trust, dispensed as need be by my Trustees: Gil Roth and Peter Johnson. Gil, I’ve been friends with since St. John’s. Peter does this for a living, & cuts me a world of always legal and ethical slack. More tomorrow. Nighty-night.