01.23.02 - 6:06 p.m.

What to say? I want to crawl in a hole and die, despite getting great sleep last night for the first time in weeks. I crave sleep the way Joey Tribbiani craves sandwiches.

Dad thinks Grandma and Grandpa are going to die soon, so he's obsessed with getting Bassett and I to Florida before that happens. Sounds fine to me, but it's not like they haven't been telling me about their burial plots in Grandview Cemetery and giving away their stuff for years. Dad actually sounded like he was crying about it on a voicemail he left me last Friday, which I'm glad I didn't pick up because I wouldn't have known what to say to him if we'd talked. Thanks once again, Dad, for your emotional availability.

But I'd like to take a trip to Florida and see the g-rents - they've always been good to me even if they have the same asshole tendencies as the rest of that side of the family. And lately I've found myself wanting to call them and send holiday cards rather than doing it out of obligation. What's up with me? Am I just becoming an old softie? Am I growing up?

I can't discuss this right now. I have to leave this office. I have to go home and wash my underwear.