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📓 Sunday, November 16, 2025 — 10:26 p.m.
Woke up today like I have these last few days — coughing, congested, tired of the same damn routine:
waking up at 2 a.m., sitting in front of the TV until 4 a.m., waiting for this cough to settle like a stubborn child.
My morning alarm hit at 6 a.m.
Loud.
Annoying.
Disrespectful.
Rain tapping the metal ceiling like the impatient fingers of God.
Fuck my life.
Checked my phone — nothing.
No texts, no calls.
Just a blank screen outside of my Lakers notifications and some WordPress likes.
At least the Lakers won.
Normally, when I’m healthier, I look for old clients or street vendors.
Today wasn’t one of those days.
Two pit stops.
Made what I could.
Then back to my little Camelot in the hood.
Now I’m sitting here typing, the glow of my MacBook lighting up my sick-looking face, and I’m breathing a bit better than earlier.
I’m going to finish watching Wes Anderson’s The Darjeeling Limited.
It’s hitting the spot tonight.
To the few who read this — thanks.
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