Not a lot of time, so I'm going to message my entry now and massage my later. Apparently my feet are smaller than I thought. [Round Two] Okay, it's weird to think that Jason and I have become connoisseurs of British faire, but there's a pub in Woodland Hills and it's absolutely terrible. We're spoiled that there's such a good one nearby.

Meeting with a real estate agent tomorrow to check out mansions in the Westlake Village area. If you've gotta live, live well. Hopefully all the electrical problems are solved today as Ray and Mike come over to inspect Wilma (my poor poor Cressida). Beyond that, life is slowly stabilizing, and I have to say that my outlook on life is far less bleak than it was even a month ago.

Part of that has to do with the fact that I've gotten myself off the piss pot. I forgot the simple joy of just being free and being able to where I please, even if I'm immobilized to a certain degree. So I apologize for being so down on myself; things are certainly looking brighter.