The phone here is this strange two ringer. One long ring for upstairs, two short rings for our place. I'm used to it now, but when I'm expecting a call and the phone rings, there's the impulse to pick it up, cuz it obviously for me, right?
Wrong.
Just picked up the phone, girl's mom phoning for upstairs girl, long distance, from overseas. So I go upstairs looking for the girl, only to find a different girl trying to communicate to me with a mouthfull of toothpaste "riii nnn bk, rii nn bk, rii nn bk," pointing at something, me, pen in hand, realizing she's just said "right in the book." So I do. Here's what I wrote: Steph, mom phoned, sends you love and 1 hug.
Now I'm waiting for job. I have a few options laid out for me, who knows. I need work. I'm a fucking bum, but I'm writing lots of songs for not the album coming up but the one after that. So far I have six complete/incomplete songs on the go. If it's 2005, this'll probably be 2006-7, so I'm ahead of the game, except where employment is concerned. I'm a bum.