I started the day with snoozing my alarm, because it's my firm, passionate belief that only psychopaths are capable of waking up the first time.

"I am not an owl!" I am 100% an owl.

I got ready while listening to some quality content, meaning jazz musician Jaco Pastorius, the man considered to have completely reimagined the bass as an instrument, and the Tiny Meat Gang Podcast episode titled "No Fap".

Because I am indisputably the best driver out of all of my friends... and the only one with a zipcar account, I reserve a car for us to take out soon.

And now, revealed to all the world, is the reason why it takes me so long to get ready. Slither, by Velvet Revolver, and mindless scrolling on Instagram. Shameless plug for where I work.

Two disappointing messages. Anita can't join us, and Ellie and I are taking longer to get ready than anticipated, so I give Ryan the tragic news that our time of departure has been pushed back to 10:30.

We took octavia to the closest freeway entrance, 101 to 380, 380 to 280, 280 to 92, and 92 to 35 (I want to sound like a literal dad so badly and flex being a bay area native). The Kings Canyon Art Fair is in a beautiful part of the redwoods, actually in one of my favorite areas to show people. Very excited to check out local artists and feel proud of myself for several hours.

I photograph Donna, but do not purchase her. She sounds dangerous.

I called my mom to see if I could surprise my family in Half Moon Bay with a visit later, to which she replies "eles estao aqui agora." Good thing I called, or I would've knocked at a house where nobody was home. I also bought a little print-out from some artists who cast lasers through bits of glass, and my bank very kindly reminded me in case I forgot.

It's hot. We're tired. We want to get a long lunch, so we find a place called Filoli, but it turns out we'll have to be quick: someone reserved the car after us and we can't extend the trip.

Instead of challenging myself to come up with conversation with my friends, I scroll on instagram. Again, the store I work for pops up first.

My bank taunts me for buying an overpriced salad. I am overcome with Ring notifications, and open the app to see my dad, brother, and litle cousins playing by the tree outside my house in real time.

I fear her, and yet I am drawn to her as well. I post Donna on my Instagram story to show hundreds of people how brave I am. I also go through my camera roll and find a picture from when Ellie, Ryan, Anita, and I went to the Palace of Fine Arts. I think it looks kind of cool. I might post it.

Ellie sends me pictures from earlier, and as I expected, they're really cute.

Holy shit. I fell asleep for how long?

I know it's technically tomorrow, but it feels like a crime not to do my Duolingo. A punishabke crime, actually, according to the duo bird.

Before I try to get some more sleep, I must, however, see all the people who liked my Instagram story. Nothing like a quick boost of validating, vanity induced dopamine before bed.