Monday, March 15, 2010

temps nuageux, day four

Did not, in fact, dance last night. For better or for worse.

Em came over and between us we put away a take-out Italian dinner, a bottle of Malbec, Love Actually and a whole box of Oreos.

For all the blues that tango can cure, there are some of the terribly persistent variety that may require a stiffer remedy—in the form of dunking cookies into mugs of milk and pretending not to tear up at Colin Firth's proposal skills in português.

This weekend was a hard one. I was sad going into it and sad coming out of it—with intermittent bursts of irrational anger, loneliness and overall tedium. The mean reds plus panic and late onset insomnia. Aren't I a bowl of cherries?

My favorite moment: coming home to shave my legs on Saturday night (on the pathetic off-chance I might run into the G.I.Q. at the All-Night) only to find myself shivering in the shower with a clogged drain and no hot water.

1 comment:

Kathleen said...

That sucks. Isn't your landlord obligated to fix that no heat / hot water stuff ASAP? But do not despair. Soon you won't need heat (you'll always need hot water) and the sun will come out, and things will look and feel easier.