I am a superstitious bastard, but tomorrow is Friday the 13th, and I am taking a plane ride to L.A.

Not that any of this means anything.

I also have to wake up at a ridiculous hour, the likes of which I haven’t seen since I had to work in Labor and Delivery.

I have nothing of any significance to report today. My mind is fried. Perhaps literally, even. (Remind me to never take psychotropic drugs.)