It was 8:00 a.m. and I was out in the sun raking the dead grass out of my lawn. Wearing a T-shirt with an image of Baudelaire and the slogan "Get Drunk” emblazoned upon it, and applying myself to the lifelong pursuit of comprehensive ear damage by blasting nauseatingly catchy '60s girl-group pop through my headphones, I dragged my green bin around the yard collecting the little piles of debris. I was even relatively well-rested and amidst this exceptionally domestic and mundane activity, I almost forgot how weird life has become.