On top of piss getty, all covered with ween
I am fairly certain someone slipped a disassociative into the Brita pitcher over the weekend. I’ve felt completely out of it since yesterday, like I’m in a dream. Not the good kind where you’re doing the wild thing with Zac Efron and Jonathon Rhys-Meyers all night, but the kind where you’re at work and having to work hard but don’t really feel like you’re there in the office.
I suppose it had something to do with me remaining intact in my bed all day Sunday sipping on Appletinis while watching “Viva La Bam” DVDs. It rained all day, and I was wholly unproductive.
Saturday, LG came by in a cloud of smoke. We were supposed to see “Coraline” the last weekend it is in 3-D, but it was sold out for the remaining showings. Still, we made the best of it with a deliciously down home meal on Polk.
I figured why not go the whole hog since my first training session at the gym isn’t until Thursday. After they canceled on me twice. But it’s with Kevin, and he’s “one of our favorites”. We’ll see if he ends up being one of mine.
