Today did not start out too well. I woke up sobbing, crying, and I can't remember the dream that put me in such a state. I jumped out of bed and rushed through my routine because my car was parked in a Friday street cleaning zone, and I had less than an hour to get out there and move it. When I opened my front door, there was a drugged-out party kid asleep on the stoop, blocking the doorway and the stairs. It's raining, so the stoop is shelter. I couldn't step over him because then I couldn't shut the door and lock it behind me. I poked him and yelled at him (as politely as I could), but he just lay there unmoving. For a second I thought he might be dead, but then I saw his chest move. OK, phew. But he was still in my way, so I went back in and called the cops. I hate doing that, but dammit, I'm not getting a ticket because some methed out punk decided to crap out on my doorstep. So after he was on his merry way, stumbling down the street, running into trees and such, I ran up the hill to move my car. And when I backed out of my spot, I bumped into the car behind me, which was parked illegally to begin with. So should I feel guilty? Or should I just move on? I moved on. There was no damage. Whatever. I got to work only to wonder why I rushed here in the first place. OMG. I'm just having a lovely time right now.
On the plus side of things, I've met a super great guy and am slowly becoming smitten with him. He lives in a different city, far enough away to make it...well, let's put it this way, we're not rushing into anything. It's all chat so far. And I like what I'm reading...a lot. And did I mention that he is just dreamy cute? OMG.
SP is coming up tomorrow to see She Wants Revenge and the Brazilian Girls, and if their extra ticket is still extra, I'm going to join them, but only after dinner and sangria at Cha! Cha! Cha!
My life is soooo special...
