was ich dir wunsche
So this trip to the city was not fantastic. Kitama never ended up joining us. Dinner was good, Liz cooked a phenomenal meal, but our evening plans fell through and we ended up wasting a considerable amount of time on the subway only to do nothing. The fall-through was a catalyst for me being overcome by one of those sad sad moods where nothing feels like it's right, full of extreme disappointment and everything that I'm dissatisfied about. I hate those. I needed a good time this weekend after the drudgery and hell of this past week, and it ended up being rather lame.
Kate's making Belgian Waffles this morning and Liz and Ricky are coming over, so that should be nice. And then I'll go and morosely wander around the MoMA with Carole's membership card that she lent me in a streak of niceness. And then take the train home and lament the fact that it's Sunday. Again. It's always fucking Sunday. Sundays make me want to kill myself.
On an mostly unrelated note, sometimes I really hate this single shit.
Kate's making Belgian Waffles this morning and Liz and Ricky are coming over, so that should be nice. And then I'll go and morosely wander around the MoMA with Carole's membership card that she lent me in a streak of niceness. And then take the train home and lament the fact that it's Sunday. Again. It's always fucking Sunday. Sundays make me want to kill myself.
On an mostly unrelated note, sometimes I really hate this single shit.