superflea

I'm bored.

Yesterday was great, despite a nasty hangover. Thursday saw our stalwart crew drinking at near-university levels, and the lot of us paid for it Friday. I'm glad I had the presence of mind to take the day off work. When my lead informed me he was taking Friday off, I knew there was a good chance that none of us would be able to stand before noon.

After a hangover lunch with a couple of co-workers, I wound up joyriding and shopping, picking up a bunch of DVDs and filling some more holes in my CD collection (some old REM, some Rancid, and I finally found a copy of my much-sought-after Talk Talk anthology). And it was good.

I played millions of notes on my delightful new guitar, made chicken fajitas for dinner, and laughed almost as much as I thought I might at the Jackass movie. Suffice it to say, I'll never look at Hot Wheels the same again.

But today I'm bored.

I had a hard time sleeping last night, woke up late only to come out to the living room, throw on an Aqua Teen DVD, hit the couch, and fall asleep immediately.

Now I'm making a halfhearted attempt at tidying up the place and floating restlessly from one area of the apartment to another, trying to find anything that I actually feel like doing. Meh.

And I've got scads of heavy things on my mind.

Ugh.