For one stinking year I would like to have things be normal when I go to Antrhocon. But as usual there has to some kind of freaking blow up just before I go Case in point: I will have to toss out my bed and rip apart the frame before I board the train on Thursday and pay for the rest of the weekend in Pittsburgh all because of bed bugs. My landlord is yelling at me, my room mate is yelling at me. Which means when I come back to Philly from Pittsburgh I will have to get futon so I have a bed and until then, I have nothing to sleep on except the ground. I have an artist that sent me a note I'm afraid to open but I will find some way to get all this paid for. A part of me wants to just get a heart attack and die in my sleep. Either that or see if there was a plan of action in Simon and Garfunkel's "A Most Peculiar Man" but I don't want to contemplate this right now.