back to the hotel...

or back to my house. No hotels were available. Went to the oh-so-exciting Rock Bottom after work with a bunch of folks from the office. Attempted to explain the virtues of Serge Gainsbourg and Antonin Dvorak to a hardcore drum'n'bass-head. Drank some beer, played some Golden Tee video golf, talked some shit...you know - the usual. Actually, I did little or no shit talking. Come to think of it, we were all pretty well behaved.

Kickin' it at home right now. Should probably do some laundry. I thought that I had something brilliant to say. Apparently, I don't.

We'll try this again later.

Ack.

Just had a heart-to-heart with my notebook. I'm trying to get some of the shit that's been ping-ponging around in my noggin out into words. I don't think I effectively accomplished my task. Well, I guess I sort of did. I'm currently experiencing a whole new breed of angst. Not teen angst, not the lonely-angst. No, this is the new shit right here. It's not that furrowed brow, vein popping, dark angst. It's more of a mid-twenties angst. It's a what-the-fuck-am-I-doing angst. It's angst-because-I-haven't-had-any-angst-in-forever-angst. Fuck. Remind me never to use te word "angst" ever again. My angst pass will have been revoked by the time I finish writing this. No, I'm just a guy with a far too active imagination trying to figure out what I'm gonna do next. Why the fuck am I putting this on the internet? I was sitting here, all by myself, listening to some Afghan Whigs, trying to put my feelings into words on some paper, and now look what's happened.

I'll share one thing that I wrote in my notebook:

..pisses me off. Why? ACK! FUCK! FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK!!!!!!!FUCK! OK. Done.

So there.

Current drink: Strawberry Minute Maid & Absolut