It's Always the Quiet One

Rambling about life, culture, Project Runway, and the occasional fruity drink.

Monday, March 20, 2006

2,880 minutes of my life... gone!

I just totally wasted another weekend. I would have got more accomplished had I been asleep the entire time. If I wasn't sitting around holding my head in my hands, I was anesthetising myself with the computer, or trying to ignore the basket of laundry that needs to be folded which has been sitting in the office for oh, 3 or 4 days now. I also did some random wandering around the house, stopping in the doorways of rooms and standing there like some tragic ghost woman who's stuck in limbo and doesn't know which way to go to get to the light.

I have about 60 things that I need to do. Do I want to do any of them? No. Are they particularly painful things? No. If I didn't have to go to work today, I have the feeling that I could totally waste today also.

I think I am being too hard on myself. I did some stuff. I followed the cat around the yard while he checked out all the 'cat news' on the bushes. He doesn't get out much. (Well, he gets out more than he's supposed to... but that's different.) I also ordered pizza online Saturday night. Woo hoo! Last night I actually cooked, but it was just stupid boring spaghetti.

It's very scary to realize that I was basically brain-dead for almost an entire weekend. I can't get that back. I am not inspired... I have no goals for life... I have no ideas what I would be doing if I had any. I don't think I'm depressed, just lazy? Oh well. It'll pass. It's happened before, it'll happen again. Where's Jimmy Buffett when you need him?

On a happier note, I had a nice time Friday night. Went to a fabulous Japanese restaurant with a good friend of mine (who in the future will be referred to as K), grossed her out by eating unagi (which is bbq eel sushi, for the uninitiated), and ate way too much hibachi chicken. Then we met up with Friends #2 and #3 and visited a couple of bars downtown. Drank half of a horrid rum-and-coke at the first place, which was in one of those Victorian-era stores that are really long and narrow and have the cool tin-punched ceilings. We got maybe five feet inside the door before Friend #2 bumped into a very drunk guy she knew and we all kind of stopped. I felt like a piece of plaque in an artery, clogging up the flow of drunk people stumbling towards the bathroom. We didn't stay there too long.

Second place was a lot more open. They actually had two guys checking IDs at the door - not two lines, one line with two guys. Like the first guy couldn't be trusted so they had this second guy to check his work. Being St. Pat's day, there was a lot of green and stupid variations of "I'm Irish" on T-shirts and buttons. (If you're really Irish, you don't need a T-shirt to tell everyone.) Friend #2 scored us some free shots - she can talk to anyone, I'm slightly jealous. :) We also met a leprauchan. Seriously - kinda short guy, red hair, green outfit and a TOP HAT. It was scary. The bartender made me something fruity that was quite delicious but I have no clue what was in it.

I'm looking forward to this Friday when I will be going out again, this time with my other good friend who moved to Ala-BAMA! (think Forrest Gump) and I haven't seen for several months. (She will be known as J in subsequent posts). A good time will be had by all, and I will wear my new pants that make my butt look good. :)


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