Eponine sings it. It's translated as 'time flies', but perdu more literally means 'lost'.

That's kind of how I feel right now, in general. Like time is seeping out from under my feet. Like James and the little bright green things that wormed into the ground under the peach tree.

So any minute now, right... an enormous, sweet, juicy, fuzzy peach complete with a charming and cuddly cast of lovable bugs?

Eh, maybe.

I got a call from my mom yesterday. My dad will be 50 next month, which boggles the mind.

My sister is the family genius. She's my half-sister... my dad's daughter. She was not spoiled like me and my brother because she was raised by a mom who had kids for the welfare check. She is smart, capable, fabulously creative, raising two kids and a boyfriend, working, takind 14 units and getting recognition for her papers.

And I complain about my life being stuffed to the gills with responsibilities? I find it difficult to think or create? I am shamed to my toes. Why can't I just /do/ like she does?

Ah, right... it's the whole sanity issue. *Sighs*

I can't get msn messenger to work anymore. I am going to go downstairs and eat. And play the piano. Yes.

<<agé chose>>

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