it's time to wake up...

am i alone in here?

so our friend a calls me about 5ish and says she is going stir crazy (her bf is also gone for a bit), and what am i doing.

and, of course, we all know the answer to that. i curve my index finger, bend my thumb, place the two tips together, and splay my other three fingers. as we used to say in buenos aires, huevo.

so plans are hastily made to lay hands on some gin and some tonic, and the fixin's for grilled cheese and tomato soup are amassed. and we play phase 10 and drink and bitch about work and stupid people and our significant others being gone. my wife actually calls while a is there, and we put her on speaker, and in an odd sort of way, it was like before she left.

comme ce, comme ca, o my patient and easy-going non-existant readers, it supplied me with the energy to perk myself up and have a better attitude for the weekend.

but at the same time, while i was hanging out, chatting a bit before going to bed, i was listening to music. the kinds of songs that keep my energy up: alkaline trio, deftones, casualties, on and on.

but without even knowing it, i started a slight glacial shift towards songs that might make me sad: looking back on today, by the ataris, one lonely visitor, by chevelle. it didn't make me cry, maybe because i was so perky as to almost be annoying, and most definitely tipsy.

but i'm feeling it a bit this morning. in the back of my head, like. like i ought to listen to the songs again and get it out of my system before i venture out and enjoy my weekend. like i might actually be able to relax more and have more fun for having done it.

worry not, o fearless non-existants: i get sad, i get depressed, i cry, i rail against god and dubya, and anyone else i think i can get away with blaming, and then i fucking smack myself, tell myself to lay off the fucking moaning, pick myself up, dust myself off, and right back at it.

cause that is just the way i am (said with eyebrow acock, and smirk on full alert).

darth sardonic