I had some really good ideas a second ago, but in my manic panic to post my latest mixtape they all went away to thoughtfully-ever-after land. I thought a lot about everything that didn't matter at all tonight and I thought about all of that so hard that I am still awake and the sun is rising and I want to be angry at myself for just thinking hard instead of sleeping deadly. How come I never get the good and gone sleep unless I've been playing in traffic after a drinking binge? I guess it's just one of those things I'll come to accept like never fucking your editor and that I've been the other woman longer than I care to admit. At least I'm good at it.