As of late, the great holidays in which I had vested so much attention, Valentine's, Memorial Day, Cinco De Mayo, summer, the 4th of July, have all had to take a backseat to the what I'm hoping is my future. But with the recent spate of celebrity demise, I begin to wonder if I'm not wasting time, and that the future I'm looking forward to, I've already passed. Or I'm just lonely. One or the other.
My long lost buddy Shade called for the fourth. She's in DC, finally having moved into the condo of her dreams - walking distance to work, swanky, pool on the roof, other swanky stuff, etc - and now she's about to give up on men. Again.
What seems to be passing for attractive. Dare I say...trifling? Her quick assessment was that all the men she meets are trifling. Which was bad assessment, because after she explained to me, one was just plain a liar. The rest were as she put, less than worthy with stood up dates with no call and the like. Yes, she'd come into contact with a number of trifling men, I have to admit. Including the one determined to stay out of the friend zone. We never got around to what the alternative would be, but since she rarely makes my dreams come true - it will probably just be a dating sabbatical for a while.
I spent the holiday in the books otherwise. I have two finals in the next ten days and I intend to ace them both. Then apparently have to go see family, as my father was quick to mention family reunions when i spoke to them as well. But already got a something for that first weekend. So I got that going for me.
Sporty is still in town, but she has tons of other friends here and as much as I would like to monopolize her time, or at least keep bugging her, I'm not. I'm nice guy. And you see where I am right?
She told me some things at dinner on Thursday that made my first free Friday in a while into a series of naps - up at 10am, study, nap at 1pm, wake at 5pm, study, nap at 8pm, wake at 11pm, waste time - which is a sure sign of either disease or depression. And my doctor just checked me over, so I'm betting on depression. It gnaws away at you when you can't help someone you care about, and I'm a little short in what Sporty needs right now.
So Friday was sleepy, Saturday was slow except for a few phone calls (and Steve McNair apparently getting clipped by the other woman), Sunday was slower with more studying and less thinking.
A famous comedian, Jerry Clower, once asked the philosophical question:"Where will you be when you get where you're going?" It may not be the most highbrow way to ask an existential question, but it does the job.
Where will I be when I get where I'm going?
Barkeep. Ice tea. Sweet. No lemon.
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