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Dia Oitenta

Today was güd. I sat all day in a bookstore cafe, paging through all the nonsensical mad-scientist notes I’ve been scribbling on planes and trains the last couple weeks. The idea’s solid now, and so I started designing the app’s main page on Sketch. Once done, I bundled up and walked over to the nearest night market for some mulled wine, then went and sat with a bunch of rich old farts in a beautiful gold concert hall here in Vienna to listen to two hours of ma boi Wolfgang Amadeus. Needless to say, I was the only juan in a t-shirt.
Started the day depressed. You know, where doing anything — like shaving or laundry or working on giggles or calling chase/verizon/customs or getting up to prep mirepoix — somehow seems both impossible and irrelevant. After talking to Santi around 4pm I decided to get out of bed and at least tidy up the house. Now I’m feeling better, clean shaven, admiring three tupperware containers full of mirepoix.

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