Matt Smith came to my house and apparently desperately wanted to be my friend. We hung out and ate ice cream and I told him he looks much better out of the Dr Who costume.

I don't know why my subconscious seems to want me to fancy Matt Smith, it's very strange. I also hate it when I hate dreams that I can't figure out, fffuck.

Then I got my old job back at the ice cream place in Annapolis. I know what that means.