I spent a lot of last week in bed, although not in a good way. I was laid low by some upper respiratory virus, most likely a cold, but maybe the flu. No swollen glands or soreness, though, and no high fever, so probably not. Wednesday I was fine, Thursday I woke up and had a sore throat and slept all day and then felt fine, Friday I felt like shit all day so I stayed in and out of the rain, and then came Saturday.
Saturday, I was supposed to meet up with a certain lady to hang out. So I text her around 6:30, she says she’s still at work, so I tell her to just let me know when she gets free, and we can coordinate then. 10:30 rolls around, no news, so I decide to head out on my own. I still haven’t heard back from her. Can’t win ‘em all.
I went to Sauced for a few good beers and then Blue note for a few less good beers, and then Cyrus texts me and says he’s at a party around the corner. So I say I’ll be there in a hot minute and head out. Side note: Paying in cash means you can leave whenever you want to.
So I get to the party and no Cyrus. There were a bunch of people I didn’t know and one that I did; it was Melissa’s going away party. So, I turned my gregariousness up to 11 and met a bunch of new people, although I’m afraid by that time I was more fueled by booze than by social graces. Then there was more beer and more hard liquor and a lot of blurry moments. Cyrus got back maybe 15 minutes after I’d arrived, with more beer.
Later, after more beer and some whiskey, I extracted myself from the party, wandered around a bit, decided I should park the car, got on my bike, wandered a bit more and ended up crashing on Cyrus’ couch. I realized this morning that that particular party was the kind where you have a really good time while there and then only later realize you were making a complete fool out of yourself.
Today was a typical sunday: Jeff’s for brunch, video games, movies, pizza, bar, home. I’ve got to get a job, and an apartment, and a motorcycle. In that order. Ah, goals. It’s nice to have those again.