If you look at the time stamp on this post, you’ll notice that it’s nearly 9 in the evening. Normally at this hour, I’m brushing the puppy, sweeping the floor, and doing my stomach crunches in preparation for bed. I’m normally feeling pretty darn relaxed and contented. I’m normally not just coming home from work.
I’ve had a real barn-burner of a day. It started at 6:30am and just ended and I’m exhausted. This happens to be a bit of a tragedy because I have so much to blog about. Last weekend was bizarre and I couldn’t wait to share with you and now I fear I never will. I’ve noticed that if I don’t blog about my weekend on Monday I never get around to it before another weekend comes scooting right along.
For instance, I’ll never tell you about the drunken conversation I had with a black man about racism. I won’t regale you with my sordid encounter with a club owner from San Francisco, whom we met at a baseball game, who was convinced that I could do better than Wes (such is the brazen opinion of an idiot) and saw nothing wrong with trying to guilt a boy out of his baseball that he caught at his very first baseball game. I will probably also miss out on the chance to extoll the evils of a vodka hangover and explain to you how carrying saltine crackers around is enough to make people think you’re pregnant. Such important things!
Alas, it’s not to be…tonight. If I can get to any of these things tomorrow I will jump on that chance like a monkey on a banana. If I never get the chance however, I hope it’s enough to know that this last weekend was a real corker and I need about a week to recover from it…Which is why it’s so great that I had a really long Monday…And now I’ve run out of gas. Good night, good night, a thousand times good night. Until tomorrow and a whole multitude of new shenanigans.