September 2, 2002
God, it's hot as hell. Labor day. I should be somewhere else. Instead, I sit in this sauna of a living room that is still, despite all my efforts, yellow. God. The fan is doing all it can. Which consists of blowing 95 degree heat at me. Period. This damned house with bad fucking electricity! How long am I gonna stress over that? Too much work to do to escape to a movie again today. He's outside coaching the supermodel. Do supermodels sweat? Probably not. No body fat. Well, six more weeks and I won't be able to imagine this.