Saturday February 14, 2009

Fuck Valentine's Day. More so, fuck the people who celebrate Valentine's Day. And I don't just say that because I'm bitter about being unfairly fucked over by my last so-called "significant other." I say that with all sincerity because I think it is the most pointless fucking holiday, next to "Sweetest Day," which is a topic we won't get into.

I fuckin' sleep through my alarm this morning and don't end up waking up until twenty after five (I have to be to work at 5:30 AM). I shoot a text over to Ryan and tell him I'm running late. I don't here back from him, so I just assume he doesn't care, or else he would have responded or called. I then take my sweet ass time getting ready (I even make myself a little breakfast with my new found free time).

I get to work at just about 6:00 and nothing is done to open the store (which I am pissed about at first, but I am a firm believer in karma, so I can't get too upset). I basically take it upon myself to get the store ready for opening because Ryan isn't doing shit (surprise, surprise).

Another dead morning. We get on and off busy spots, but nothing spectacular. I do, however, end up walking out with over twenty bucks in tips (not bad for a four hour shift).

I cruise out of there at 10:00 and head straight home (no McDonald's breakfast today). I cruise into my room to do some re-writes but Tool needs to type something on Word, so he needs to use my laptop. So instead, I just throw on the t.v. and take a long nap.

I wake up around 4:00 and am hungrier than a bastard. Tool takes off for work and I bomb around the kitchen looking for anything to eat. Of course, everything I find takes a considerable amount of time to make, which does not help my case because I'm hungry right fucking now! I bite the bullet and jump in my car to head out to eat.

I settle on Passero's restaurant and order myself a big Italian beef sandwich with cheese and some fries, to go. I gun it home and contemplate just destroying the fucker on the ride. I decide to wait until I'm in the confines of my humble home so I can eat in peace and truly enjoy it to the fullest.

I flat out sprint inside, almost losing my shit on the steps (and killing my lunch). I gun it to my room and set up shop on my table. Now what happens next is actually a big blur. I think that I was so severely hungry and so excited about my sandwich that I completely just blacked out while eating it because I can't really remember eating it (details, at least). All I vaguely remember is crumbling up the wrapper and throwing away the bag when I was all finished. Fucked up, I know.

After my unconscious feast, I throw on the t.v. and watch Clifford, the one with Martin Short and Charles Grodin (fuckin' brilliant movie and very underrated). I get a call from Stin telling me that him, Mary and Stein are coming over in a bit (Stin and Mary don't celebrate Valentine's Day and I love them both dearly for it).

The night goes like any other random night goes: drinking, games, conversing, etc. Mary decides that I shouldn't be lonely on Valentine's Day and calls one of her co-workers over and tries to play Cupid and get me laid. It doesn't end up happening, but I commend her for her efforts.

The night continues and we all get pretty decently sloshed. Everyone cruises around 2:00 AM, and I do my nightly routine and pass out in my bed. Successful Valentine's Day, overall.