After an hour delay and a missed opportunity for sex, I've driven my beastie Ford home from PDX, pulled the luggage out, poured a glass of wine, played with the cat, deviruses my computer (again), and will now check to see what bounty the DVR hath brought me.
Not before I empty this bottle of something red.
Vacation has done me some good. Truth be told, my life is a bit of a vacation compared to other people. I should recognize this more and adjust my lifestyle accordingly. Ah... I've become a self loathing underacheiving slacker. With a cat.
Confirmed this weekend: I am more interesting when I'm drunk. I blame raging Generalized Anxiety Disorder that keeps me from striking up even the most mundane conversations with strangers. I would rather fix a stranger's cell phone rather than actually talk to him. That happened.
Off to wine. Then bed. Salaam, minions.
goochout.
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