we sit on front porches and swing life away

i'm at work, ninth day in a row, hopeing to meet up with my chef, but no go. i know he's been here, his razor and toothbrush are on the prep table (don't ask) but he's not picking up his phone, so whatever.

i'm going home. dealt with the facebook crap, am doing my best to slowly reconnect with people that i haven't seen in over 12 years.