A jet flew over my house this morning. It was probably for the D-Day memorial. That thought didn't occur to me in my sleepy stupor early this morning. I sat bolt upright in bed waiting for it to crash into my house. I've become increasingly paranoid of planes crashing, especially into buildings.

I wonder where that came from?

I fell back to sleep and was awoken a few hours later to the sound of thunder. The day started crappy and just progressed into hell. I nearly walked out on the lanterns this afternoon. I'm pissed and I doubt I'll work on mine for a while. Nothing seems to be getting done, it's all a big mess. I have to take half of mine apart and then somehow make it more bright.

Arg.