I woke up at 7am this morning.
I then went back to sleep until 7.30.
Then I got up.
I put on a shirt, and some pants.
I put on my jacket.
I had breakfast.
I brushed my teeth.
I drove to the church, and got a little lost on the way, but found it eventually.
I went inside.
There was a service.
Funerals always get to me... besides all the emotion involved in losing a loved one, for me they're a reminder of my own mortality.
Let's face it, can anyone imagine me making it to 30? I certainly can't comprehend it, but c'est la vie.
That's not really it, though... It's all just really sad.
When I go, I want it to be a jublilant thing, you know. . I suppose when you're actually in the ground, it doesn't really matter to you one way or the other... I don't know...
I came home.