May. 21, 2003 - 8:17 a.m.
Things work out spendidly at times.
Despite my original plans being tossed in the trash, I had a lovely evening last night. It ended far too early of course, but responsibility calls, and it called very early this morning.
In the aftermath of another drunken fit though, I feel somehow sad. I was called "nice" several times last night, and even in the light of the morning, that particular compliment grates on my nerves to no end.
Next thing I know, someone will be calling me cute as well.
Maybe it is the upcoming celebration. I'm feeling older, wiser (well, not really), more responsible, boring. I'm just restless, I guess. Insatiable desires are the antithesis of contentment.
I think I would prefer to be young or disgustingly wealthy or, at the very least, infamous. At least it would give me something new and interesting to impart to strangers over a glass or two of alcoholic beverage.
Last night stands out on sharp relief to this spectacular boredom that has a grip on my life.
I wonder if it's even worth the effort anymore or is it better to just hide behind the cute surburb lifestyle and indulge my vices in secret: behind a computer screen, tucked away in my bedroom, behind closed doors, quietly...shhhh.
