Mesa Testa

Yesterday I lost my glasses, keys, and wallet in 3 different places. I found them all, but geez! This meant an evening hitching free rides on the lightrail and watching Sheryl Crow with no beer. Cranky was CRANKY (which is only fitting on G's last night in town).

It was a 75 hour week last week, but this week should be much lighter. I'm not even counting hours, and it's like a burden lifted, except for the fact that my brain has gone on hibernate.

Ok, I need me some Breakfast at Tiffany's, some wine, and some girl scout cookies. Yes, this is what single 30 somethings do on Thursday nights. I remember the days spent crawling from pub to pub. Now I crawl from couch to bed after falling asleep during a movie. Really, I've got to start having a life again. The year of Don Eduardo is not proving as adventuresome as the year of my boobs. Maybe I should make it the year of my boobs AND Don Ed.

To give myself credit, though, I did make a spontaneous decision to hit the Devilport the other day, where the bartender once again poured me samplers in rocks glasses and where the girls came out to say hi. The place is evil, and it is now compounded by the fact that it has free wifi now, so I can do work while being sucked into an abyssmal stupor. That should be productive.