It's going to be one of those unremarkable weeks when you're never sure if you'll need a jacket in an hour, and when remarkable events always seem just around the bend. It'll hover just shy of 60 degrees, things your mother told you about appreciating your youth will hover just above your everyday inner monologue, and the sun will poke out and then get hazed over again several times over while you're at lunch. Take comfort in who you've found, and if you're waiting to find someone, they may not arrive until next week, when it might be sunnier. And if you're going to Coachella, for god's sake, don't blow your whole wad on Saturday and end up one of those pathetic souls splayed out on the grass, unable to enjoy the onslaught of music in thirty-minute increments. You still have The National and Kanye and PJ to look forward to on Sunday. Live a little, but not that much, and try to stay hydrated. Humans (and big grassy lawns) were never meant for the desert.