6 a.m. and I can't sleep anymore. I had this weird dream that three giants flew into my parent's yard and pulled guns on my family and me, so we battled to the death. We won. What the hell is wrong with me?

Now I'm the only one awake and it's still dark outside. I'm basically waiting for spring. If it were warm and dry I'd get dressed and go for a walk...but that's not happening. New Jersey and Maine are in states of emergency, but Connecticut can't seem to get its shit together, so we just have excessive amounts of rain and wind. No snow. February sucks.

In other news, we have a mouse in the kitchen. This morning I opened the drawer that we keep the to-go condiments in, and saw that most of them had been chewed through and covered in mouse shit. I am officially on a mouse hunt. That little fucker is gonna die.

Okay, so my Photo-a-Day project isn't going as planned. This weird thing is going on where everyone seems to think that our apartment is a hotel. It's starting to get out of hand, to the point where I find myself actually looking forward to the end of the weekend because it means that everyone will get the hell out of my house and I'll have time to myself. Sigh...maybe this weekend I will actually be able to relax and read. I never thought I'd say this, but I am so sick of visitors. I need a vacation from my own damn apartment, and more friends that are local.

So here I am, finally alone, sitting in my bedroom, wondering what life would be like if I could have just been born into money. I'd be cruising the Riviera on my 20,000' yacht right now, a Daiquiri in one hand, my camera in the other, and a wad of $100 bills on the table. Yacht decks look like they might be windy, so of course I'd have to weigh my pile of money down with a gigantic diamond. I'd have my pet unicorn guard everything while I'm shopping in exotic boutiques at port.

Someone told me that the phrase "Money can't buy happiness" is true for the middle class and beyond. Apparently it really can buy happiness when one lives below the poverty level; any more money beyond that level will only mean bigger bills and bigger problems. I disagree. Whoever said money can't buy happiness is a stupid rich bastard idiot who needs a punch in the face.

What a freakin beautiful weekend. Sunny blue skies and a Springy feeling - I'm getting cabin fever. Even though the groundhog allegedly saw his shadow, and the Weather Channel is calling for five consecutive days of snow this week, I think we may need a do-over. Either that or a new groundhog.

We took a walk in the woods today, and I swear I saw a leaf. It may have been a candy wrapper caught in a branch, but I'm going to go with my gut on this on and say that Spring is on its way.

My God, can it be spring already? I am freezing cold and cranky as hell, not to mention fat and pale.

Speaking of fat and pale, Valentine's Day is on its way! One more work day (this is seriously the longest week ever) until the Lovey and I are enjoying a romantic getaway in the Berkshires (yes, I have absorbed all the marketing lingo about the Berkshires - hey, I'm excited), sipping on glasses of wine in front of the roaring fire in our cozy room. We are going to try and squeeze in a few hours at the Mass MoCA too - my new exhibit is on display this week.

Just kidding. I need a vacation. Too much going on, and not enough time for sleep. Lack of sleep + too many guests over the past month x work - play = loss of sanity and overall sense of doom. Maybe all I need is a Xanax.

Night!