Sunday, August 11th, 2002 | 5:09
I ruled the world of imaginary and complex roots.

So I crawled out from under an anvil tonight.
Drove downtown in the rain, nine-thirty on a Tuesday night, just to check out the late-night record shop. Call it impulsive, call it compulsive, call it insane; but when I'm surrounded I just can't stop. It's a matter of instinct, it's a matter of conditioning, it's a matter of fact. You can call me Pavlov's dog. -The Barenaked Ladies (Brian Wilson)
If there was ever one song I'd have to pick to mean so much to me, I never in a million years would have figured it would be by The Barenaked Ladies.
Driving home, everything was ok. From the time I left Kaitlin's to the time I got home, everything in the world was doing exactly what it was supposed to be doing.
Driving at four in the morning makes me delirious.
Chocolate chip cookies from Price Club also make me delirious, no matter whether or not they've been dropped in the driveway.
Ring a bell and I'll salivate.

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