An unfortunate consequence of my recent teetotaling is that much of my social life has evaporated into thin air. Admittedly, this is partially my choice, as I'm attempting to enjoy some "me time" until I can figure out my next step. However, these last few days were a bit extreme. I can't say that I was completely miserable the whole time, and I totally don't mind spending time alone, but it's not helping my fear of becoming a crazy cat lady that I only had one social interaction all weekend. (A. was away, so I had the apartment to myself. Besides the cat, of course, which may or may not count as a social interaction. I'm guessing not.) Here's how I spent the weekend:
Friday night: worked out and forced myself to do the stupid giant stair climber that makes me feel like I'm going to pass out, but is also kind of cool because it's the only one in the gym so I get to tower over everyone; went home and watched "License to Wed," which, despite having a fantastic cast that includes most of the actors from "The Office," managed to blow a big one.
Saturday morning: went to kickboxing; on the way, I somehow fell down on the street and twisted my ankle; heard a sick crunching sound but decided to walk it off and work out anyway. Maybe not the best idea. Figures that the strongest thing in my system was a S'more Luna bar and I still managed to eat pavement.
Saturday afternoon: iced my rapidly swelling ankle; washed my down comforter, which ended up smelling like wet ducks rather than yummy clean fresh dryer-sheet goodness; made a half-ass attempt to clean my room, but gave up when I realized there was a "True Life" marathon on MTV; gave thanks that I am not pregnant/in rehab/taking care of my siblings/struggling to be a rapper when my traditional Indian parents want me to go to college
Saturday night: napped until 9; ordered Mexican food; watched the first four episodes of "Californication" on demand (damn good show, by the way); got through 20 minutes of "SNL" then realized it wasn't going to get funny; went to bed
Sunday morning: forced myself to go to Pilates despite swollen ankle and soreness from kickboxing; failed to achieve Zen-like peace of mind due to extreme muscle pain
Sunday afternoon: met B. in SoHo for late lunch at delicious French restaurant; bought a shirt I don't need at Bloomingdale's
Sunday night: came home and changed the kitty litter; washed the bathtub; watched DVR'ed episode of "True Life"; ate leftover Mexican food
So um, anyone wanna hang out next weekend?
1 comment:
what too drunk too type these days?
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