Feeling very guilty about getting drunk four times in twenty-four hours. I'm washing my running clothes right now, and I want to go for a run in a bit.
I'm also way, way, way baked at the moment, and have never gone running while stoned before. So doing that on a beautiful San Francisco July 4 afternoon should be interesting.
I told a few people that I planned on getting back on Facebook this weekend. So I did that today. Facebook welcomed me back by suggesting that I add Jessica as a friend. Fucking terrific. Just seeing her little micro-profile thumbnail pic was like, "Really? That wasn't what I needed, Facebook." Facebook doesn't care, though.
Craptastic. I'm already thinking about her enough as it is this weekend. This is the one year anniversary of our move, two years ago we were chilling at Dolores Park, and yesterday I asked a mutual friend to inquire about getting my share of the deposit back on our place. I knew this weekend could be rough for me -- I told my shrink as much -- but I'm a little surprised at how much it's gotten me down.
I don't think getting drunk four times in 24 hours helped, either.
And Steve McNair! What kind of bullshititude is going on with the world today?
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