this is how i spend my day, thanks to Windows Messenger (woooo):
//
Morgan says:
maybe i'm mocking the wrong person in this branch
Jennifer says:
who???
Morgan says:
maybe i should be mocking b
Morgan says:
instead of c
Jennifer says:
no kidding
Morgan says:
oh hell, i'll just mock both
Jennifer says:
lol
Morgan says:
life is tough being the token cynic
//
michelle spent the majority of last night sighing loudly, so i took her out to barca to shut her up. a coupla cosmos and just a few sierra nevadas laters, we were Best Friends again, omgwtf! because i was decently smashed, and therefore had all the confidence in the world, i decided to pop by the hurricane. there was a show going on and the usual bouncer who lets me in for free wasn't there so i popped in the back way to talk to becca the bartender for a minute. she invited me to a barbeque at her new house, which should be a rockin good time.
i dropped michelle off at home and managed to convince this fine young lady to buy plane tickets to visit me. the last weekend of july is going to be awfully outdoorsy, awful being the operative word. wow, that came out wrong. i'm excited beyond belief. there we go.
i fell asleep at 1am last night, which for Mature Responsible Me means i got no sleep at all. i remember back in the day when Immature Irresponsible Slut of a Me could go on two hours of sleep a night for a week straight. when i would drive to l.a. and back in one night of manic partying. when i left santa barbara at 3am and drove to redding for the last time completely drunk off my ass and still made it in eight hours.
my bedtime is 9pm, if i can help it. what am i, seven?
my therapist called me yesterday, which was an interesting coincidence considering i was given access to this little gem. that kind of fucked up the rest of my day and all i could do when i got home was listen to romeo and juliet by the dire straits and try really hard to feel anything but nothing.
this is generally the point at which i would whip out my x-acto knife, but i'm over that now.
so i told obie the therapist about that and just the fact that he called was nice. i didn't feel better, necessarily, after we talked, but it's still nice for someone to think of you even though you're not paying him to be your best friend anymore.
this entry doesn't make any sense at all. i want gummy bears.