Oh, look! I figured out how to use my webcam. Nice disheveled appearance, huh? I'm listening to Norah Jones and feeling all pensive. I'm kind of annoying myself. The truth is that humanity would be best served by me getting some sleep, but I kind of want to watch Jane Austin movies and weep. No reason for it, really. Well, unless you count the fact that Michael is going to a new prison today and Don is acting like a silly18-year-old. When Don is sillyin the normal fashion, I just assume that he's shooting up Meth and about to die in a ditch. This causes me stress. I have no idea how to ride the wave of normal teens, so I assume I'm dealing with profound and suffocating drama. You know, he might be fine. Or, my Momma-alarms could be justified....there's just no way to know at this point. Pray for Don, because he has to deal with me. Pray for me, because I have to be me. Oh, my gosh, don't you wish you were me? I mean, imagine the wonder of raising teens like I do!