This weekend was more or less a disaster. Unmitigated. No mitigation what so ever. If any government agency had a plan for how to mitigate for this weekend, it was a terrible plan that was bollocks and got no where, lost in committee somewhere until BAM! the disaster strikes. So, here we are. I spent most of the weekend being sick, longing for things I couldn't have, watching some good DVDs (Six Feet Under and Eddie Izzard stand-up ... thanks Alisha), working in the MC lab and generally have a mid (third?) life crisis over the course of 48 hours. For those of you who got to enjoy my posting from last night surely must think I've gone off the deep-end or something, but maybe I was getting a little carried away thanks to 6FU and red wine. Maybe its a little ridiculous, but at least I'm conscious of where my life may or may not be heading. I think the key to this problem is that (a) I'm bloody impatient and (b) I'm a little bit of a perfectionist, and considering my misadventures with love are just that, misadventures, its hard to feel good and roll with the punches in that venue. So, where have I gotten? I'm not sure. I'm feeling pretty good about myself otherwise ... I'm probably in the best shape of my life (of course this cold has curtailed by gym going), I'm a doctorate and an indie rock music critic. Some lady is bound to think thats a good catch, right? Am I right here? I think so ...
Oh wait, where did this start.
For those of you looking for a soundtrack to this weekend, try Art Brut's "Bad Weekend" and Suburban Kids with Biblical Names' "Shitty Weekend". Get the pattern?
And don't you love that when you plug "bad weekend" into Google Images, you get Freddie Mercury. Poor guy...
Ah well ... I guess it is the end of October. I never could get the hang of October ...
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