Hello. My name is Karen and I enjoy watching my limbs atrophy.
I have no idea what I’m going to do next year. I can’t stand one day of not doing anything, much less eighteen days (since Jan. 18 is the tentative, travel to Chicago date).
The cars racing past my house at this time of night always depress me. Sort of in the same way that buses that run late at night do. Where are these people going so late at night? Are they as bored as I am? They should stop by and say, “Hey Karen! Come with us! We’re going to find tacos!” and I would totally hop in and go for a 3 am taco hunt.