"This must be Thursday... I never could get the hang of Thursday."
-Arthur Dent, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

I don't know what it is... The sun is shining, there's plenty of snow on the ground, the woodland creatures are frolicing (OK, maybe not woodland creatures, but squirrels and neighborhod pets), and there's not a cloud in the sky, but something just seems off. I'm having trouble getting comfortable today. Hmm.


Tunes: "Airport Song," Guster; "Unwell," Matchbox 20.