Yes!/Shit!

What a day. Of mixed things. Mr.Morris came and got me in the early afternoon to come help him mow lawns- five or six hours of exhaustion later, I made forty bucks, ate a sandwich, took a shower, donned all black, and departed with Larkin to Starbucks; I needed a venti caffeine shake.

It's amazing the healing powers a quart of cafe Verona and your girlfriend can have on you. I came home feeling like I had stress fractures in my shoulders and legs, but after seeing Larkin's face and a bottle of aspirin, I forgot it all. I feel great. I mowed four lawns today and I still feel like staying up until four AM. What the hell is it with my metabolism? I've got to have some weird disorder. I'll do something extremely strenuous, sit around for half an hour, and feel like playing street hockey! Shit, I only got four hours of sleep last night too. I think I run on caffeine, adrenaline, affection, and a 6000-calorie diet consisting of healthy Asian food, and a few hundred sandwiches per day. And meat. My dad cooks lots of meat. But I feel great. I suppose I'm just in good shape.

And speaking of adrenaline, Larkin's dad came home early tonight whilst we were sitting around her room. Not that anything sinful was going on, but her father, being the fat, conservative, ignoramus of a (financially supportive) bastard he is, disproves of anything between the two of anyone closer than a hug, and would've positively chewed our asses off with a wood chipper had he found the both of us in her bedroom. Oh, how unorthodox! Children touching each other!

So anyhow, Cameron created a nice distraction downstairs, I slipped my shoes on and proceeded to sneak out the front door with Larkin like a burger-flipping ninja. Problem is, Larkin's house is about as clean as mine, and I'm blind as a bat in darkness, so I kicked an aluminum can lying on the welcome mat into the wall. Thank Shiva's manicure specialist the old man wasn't distracted. Blame the noise on the cat. But man, am I scared of Larkin's dad. It's true. I'm a knife-toting ponytailed cyclist, and I hate the man with the hate of a thousand hateful thingies, but I still have to maintain at least indifferent relations with him. The last thing I want to do is be exiled from the Dennis household (and Larkin's life) whenever dad's home. So upon leaving, enough adrenaline was released in my bloodstream to push Larkin's van to my house. I trembled for half an hour. How I hate the feeling.

But, that didn't make today a bad day. We came back to my place, watched some really hilariously fucked up flash movies, and played a bit of LETRES. Larkin returned home and to her computer relatively unscathed (her dad bitched at her for having blue hair). All is well.