I'm still alive. Thought I should mention that. Since I haven't blogged in three days, and had mentioned I was sick in the last post. Feeling much better tonight. Took some Nyquil just now. Just in case. Figured I'd milk it for all it's worth. Blogging on Nyquil. This should be fun.
Please stop by here and here when you have a couple of minutes. It's a little personality window thing, and you get to describe me! (Link permanently borrowed from Pia.)
Ended up going out Friday night. Went to eat and wound up playing poker and spades. I know, I know. I should have stayed in. But I was getting restless. Cabin fever. And, I finished second in Texas Hold 'Em.
Being single and living alone, sometimes I start to feel isolated. Like a leper amongst the Israelites. Especially, but not only, when I don't go out for a few nights. I always think about Sandra Bullock in The Net. What if something happened to me? How long would it be until someone thought something was wrong? Until someone found me? Work would be the first place probably. But what if I worked from home? Or didn't work at all? I could be here for days. Weeks, even. Is it morbid to wonder things like that?
Pablo would miss me. His tank is on the chest of drawers next to my bed. And lately, in the afternoons. When I have been napping. He'll get down at the very bottom of his tank, in the corner nearest me, and "sleep" with me. It's the cutest thing. He doesn't usually do it at night. Just when I nap during the day. And while I've been sick.
Had tickets to the George Strait concert Saturday night. Mom had given them to me for Valentine's Day. But that only gave me four days to find someone to go. And I started getting sick Tuesday night. I didn't want to invite someone not knowing if I'd even feel like going myself. So I didn't. I never invited anyone. Then, Saturday morning, she called. I had mentioned the concert to her a few weeks ago. She had to work Saturday, but ended up meeting us at the concert a little late. I had to meet her at the door because I had her ticket. Walking back to our seats, I took her hand to lead her through the crowd...
The week started with Valentine's Day, which honestly, hit me harder than it ever has before, for some reason. Then I got sick for the first time all winter. That's always about as fun as a rectal thermometer. But things worked out, as they always seem to do in the end. And the weekend was good. Really good. At some point during the weekend, I found myself in the kitchen, in my underwear, dancing and singing "Word Up.". And any weekend that includes that scene can't be too bad.
"Wave your hands in the air like you don't care. Glide by the people as they stop to look and stare..."