I've got to stop thinking today is Saturday, otherwise I'm going to be very disappointed tomorrow.
Angie Stone sings Mahogany Soul.
I feel like I'm in a bubble, all of my own. I guess I am, a hazy one. My eye lids are heavy.
Gotta put an end to this stoner fog, I'm always a hermit when I am puffing the weed.
I've got five messages on my mobile phone that I haven't listened to. My emails are just the same. Full marks to Tom for our holiday in May. He's had to do all the work, sometimes against a blank face from me when he was trying to discuss it. I must have seemed totally disinterest.
I just want to smoke dope on my own, it's my only escape. Otherwise, lately, it just seems to be work.
Over worked, that's what everyone seems to be saying at the moment.
Escape.
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