I felt Friday course through me like a strong vodka, filling my veins full of glee. See, I haven’t been relaxed of late. I’ve allowed myself to become mired in emotional and situational pits of sludge. The weekend cleansed me of that.

So what did we do? Not a lot, and it felt great.
I can’t drink anymore because of my meds (let’s hear it for the damage done to my body by Serzone!) and not drinking has become a challenge to the social scene. Booze is a social lubricant, and makes many prickly situations slick and painless. Take that away and add my normal sarcastic charm, and I am better left at home. I imaging that I’ve become boring in the past year or so. Who knew that becoming an adult meant that your body rebelled more than your mind. I realize I am wandering a bit in my train of though, but I’m medicated now and it’s close to bed time.

D and I watched Walk the Line. I was quite impressed and feel the need to get some Johnny Cash on my iPod

I had more to say, about the weekend, about the blooming sycamore in my yard, about the continuing hassle with Vader (broken seatbelt and the seat rails are funked) but my arms just became spaghetti noodles. It’s hard to type with pasta appendages.

Nite