Mood: In a hurry. Gotta go to Spanish.
Music: Still Glycerine. "Couldn't change though I wanted to..."
Mind: Lost in nausea and apathy.

Okay -- this is going to be short and sweet, because I've got to run to Spanish. Gotta do Speaky-Speaky today for Puentes.

We got the apartment for sure. I was wrong about the address though. It will be: 8035 Trinity Mills Dr. #7, Cordova, TN 38018. How lucky am I?!

I think taking the three estrogen pills has stopped my bleeding (although last time I said that, it came back with a vengeance, so I'll give this one a little time). However, I'm uber-nauseated.

Also, because I'm in a hurry, I'm fielding a ton of phone calls this morning. That's so ... typical. Why don't you add to the fray? 901-678-3673. It's okay, I don't mind. I'M USED TO IT. I CAN'T GET ANY WORK DONE. Also, I'm bitter and caustic. And I hate you.

And I hate Spanish. Time to go kick butt.