2002-02-01 - 5:22 p.m.

Its a good life, really. The sun is warm. The palm trees wave happily at me through my 5th floor window. I feel generally bright about the future, and It feels good to be so near to my friends.

And I find that I am having more inspiration than ever regarding my writing, i guess because everything here is such a new idea and concept to me, and I am sleeping odd hours and waking up at odd times and so I am remembering my dreams more frequently.

But the one frustrating part is that I seem very inert here in my free time, due to my lack of a routine. Whenever I have time, I end up sleeping. I can have a thousand thoughts of merit, shining trails of inspiration that I would like to follow, but the second I am alone in the house with nothing to do I sit dumbly before my computer and somehow it doesn't flow.

I think I just need, you know, a job. So that my free time really is free time to write or whatever, not free time that I should be using to find a job so instead i sleep through it. . . .