I’m having an excruciating time lately trying to fill up this blog. Normally, after a three day weekend I have a lot to say. A lot of drinks have been had, a lot of debauchery has ensued. But not really this time. It was a nice, peaceful, quiet weekend. (Involving mimosas and some “Sex and the City”.)
I did, however, take a walk down memory lane and stumble upon the reason for my obsession with the song, “The Best that You Can Do”. I’ve never been caught between a rock and New York City, and no, I didn’t GO to New York City (ever, for that matter…not that I wouldn’t like to…) but…I went to the Museum of Science and History with JGJ. And…that’s kind of the same thing. Okay…it’s not at all the same thing. But I don’t really have a good story to explain why it’s important.
Anyway…I managed to dream about three (count ‘em, THREE) exes in one weekend and was left a little…flabbergasted (read: annoyed) about it. I couldn’t even tell you about any of the dreams. Only that one involved J in a classroom, one involved Jer in a BATHroom, and one had something to do with a roadtrip. (No, they weren’t dreams of the dirty variety, calm yourselves. I don’t want to ever have THOSE about THEM.) They were strange. And strangely calming (read: annoying). But since I feel that I could fall back into friendship with any of them (you know, that is, if any of them ummm…didn’t think I was the anti-christ), it wasn’t ALL bad.
I know one thing. Starting tomorrow, I am no longer anti-social (I say this, but you might want to ask me again when I leave work, because after the LIFE SUCKING that is my JOB, I may have changed my mind.) So…wish me luck, internet, wish me luck.