It was a great weekend, too. We puttered around a little on Saturday, got some stuff at Costco, roamed around Tuesday Morning a little (didn't find what I went looking for), then had a fun movie night in with framefolly and sillymagpie; the former had never before seen Throw Mama From The Train, which is really a necessity for any writer, and it'd been years since I'd seen it, so we dug out the ol' VHS and had a laugh fest. Sunday we drove out to a closeout store in Mesa, where I found out that Denny's will still cook eggs sunny-side-up (although their breakfast menu has REALLY shrunk, despite their new spate of commercials), and the store itself was not too bad, although since it's new, there wasn't a vast selection yet. I did buy a couple of shirts... now realizing I should NOT have spent any money, because now I HAVE NONE, and it's still five days until payday, and I'm trying to figure out where I'm going to get the $12 to go see Dale Watson tomorrow night at the Rhythm Room. Yes, 12 measly dollars, which would be no problem had I not spent $20 on clothes I didn't need.
ARGH. (It's the little things.)
I do have a jar full of change on my bureau, though.
Not that I'll have anything on Friday, either - I have doctor's bills still from the surgery AND I need new glasses. (I'm not even going to go into what the truck needs done. Hopefully she'll hang on for a while longer.)
Last week while working, a very familiar name crossed my desk, and I learned that the son of some old friends (I guess former friends is the correct term) had been run over and rather seriously hurt. Now, I haven't seen this kid since he WAS a kid, around 6 - he's 22, now, and he was riding a bicycle when he was hit. It gave me a weird feeling. I know these people, yet haven't spoken to them in more than a decade, so what does one do besides feel sorry in the same way one does for any stranger in similar circumstances? It was weird.
I'm tired, I didn't go to the gym today (I hurt my hip stretching yesterday; not really sure how, but it really freakin' hurts), the scale says I put BACK on three pounds (I was not careful this weekend), and I have not so much P-MS as plain MS, since there's no longer anything pre about it (finally - in the realm of TMI, it took FOUR DAYS for the damned thing to actually start). Gad. Grumptastic.