Made in the car. Featuring the cat (who begins all road trips with prolonged vocal protests), a pen clicking, and a guy reading a line from an Edgar Allen Poe poem on the radio - "Soft may the worms around her creep." The whole thing is a little creepy. Not that I'm turning all goth and depressed, Mom.
I'm blogging from a Starbucks in Terre Haute, IN, if you wondered; it's a blog break from driving.
So that means I will return all the black clothes I got you for Christmas. Love, Mom
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