Once in my life, I would like to have a date that I’m not ashamed of. I went to the coffee place and waited twenty minutes with no show from Whitney. I tried to phone her, but surprisingly (insert sarcasm) she didn’t answer. I left a message to try and give myself some dignity. (I meant 9:00 in the evening. Maybe you went to the wrong place.) There was a hope that when I got back home there would be a message for me. Nope. In the end, any self esteem I gained from Saturday has been ripped to shreds and stomped on.
This week has just been bad: I have gotten barely any sleep, because the loud dehumidifier has been working on the flood damage; I think I’m getting sick, in time for my vacation; I’m behind in my packing; George Bush won the election; This place is a mess. Based off of my current record, I’m expecting that something will screw up this vacation. (I’m sorry, we have no Mr. Allen on our list. Back to Canada with you.)
Something is wrong when you start envying the eunuchs. I’ve had no good experiences with women. So I’m a little depressed now. I’d cry myself to sleep tonight, but it is so dry in here, the tears would just evaporate. 🙂
This better be an awesome vacation, or I’m going to do something rash.