Everything was lovely. Truly lovely; though I’m headed straight towards spinsterville with my flake out on Saturday night, I wasn’t nearly as upset and distraught as I’d normally be with such a cop out.
But who cares? There was that sense of ‘Ahhh. All is well’ in the air. ‘Ahhh all is well. Perhaps I will run 15 miles and limit myself to less than 2,000 calories.’ And then I woke up from my apparent dream state to a true reality: One that no longer consisted of fingerless potheads traipsing through my apartment in hopes of becoming my new roommate (In case you were wondering, that dude will not be celebratin 4/20 in the confines of my living room).
On Thursday I had made a list of everything that I needed to accomplish for the weekend:
Procure Silk soy coffee, watch Project Runway, eat French fries, go to the gym, sleep all day, drinks with Kimber, make like an illusionist and escape from helping new roommate move in, read, become mildly inebriated, get carpets cleaned, attempt to live off of $52 for the course of the weekend (including a trip to Whole Foods to procure the aforementioned silk soy coffee), seriously think about going to the gym, do not watch anyone else's children
And lo and behold, I managed to do everything on my list, save for the drinks with Kimber. But who cares? There was forward movement, with progress.
Hell, I managed to be NICE people. NICE. For an entire weekend. I didn’t even swear once. (Did you not see the headlines? ‘Hell feezes over! Pigs fly!’ ) I didn’t even refer to the cops that hit on me on Sunday morning as dumb shits lacking both brains and balls. Nope. Didn’t dare. I managed to just roll my eyes and keep walking.
I think all the niceties may have come about when the nice group of Christian** boys (For real Christians, like just came from church and then one said “Well in High School, when I became a Christian.” So yeah, I am sure…) who decided to sit with me at Cosi (there were like 2 tables and mine happened to be a larger one in the shade…) when another somewhat socially inept guy came up to them and started chatting they just smiled and made small talk and that was the end. They didn’t even turn to each other, with saucer eyes, and mouth ‘Awkward.’ Nope. They were just nice. And that niceness apparently rubbed off on me.
And when I came home! To my apartment! (Can’t stop with the exclamations!) It looked glorious! And there was a dining room table! With slip covers on the chairs! And a cake dish thingy! With a cake recipe that wasn’t from Betty Crocker! Amazing!
We’ll see how long the exclamation points! And the niceties, will last. Sadly though, I doubt it will be for long. Especially since my religion involves praying at the alter of Tim Gunn, with a glass of Cab Sauvignon at my side.
*I might get cable, solely to watch people make outfits seemingly made out of tin foil.
** Please don't take that as a slight to Christians. I am a Christian. Just at some point my religious learning went a little askew and I tend to say "Holy motherfucker" a lot.