I'm reading Kurt Vonnegut right now and wondering if we were a more intelligent species if we wouldn't just go ahead and take a cue from birds: never occupy more space than your wingspan allows. I woke up aching in one of those moments where I couldn't get out of my own head and settled down after a good burrito. I'm comfortably lingering in a post nap haze and wondering if I wouldn't be lucky if I always felt like this. At the moment I have plans, plots, schemes and badly drawn concepts of ill-begotten gains...with any luck I'll trade all of that in for a beer and some good company for the night. We'll see how all that pans out...