This weirdness is overtaking me.

Dear FutureMe, I hope this doesn't sound retarded when I read it later. It is currently 5:15 on March 6, 2010. I write without a script. Sorry, you know your old self (me) loves RENT. I hope I still do. But anyway, I want to know who I marry. If I do, and if I have kids. This is a reminder that everything was screwed up. Oh, and it's now 5:19. Four whole minutes for something so pointless. Good day, Your old self.