I say this because right now starts a new week. It needs to, because last week was a fucking clunker-and-a-half.
You know how the early part of the week went for me; work was stressful, and the one date that did happen was beyond underwhelming.
Well, guess what?
I committed a boner last night that just... oh, man. I'm still so pissed off at myself.
I'd been talking about the Patton Oswalt show for weeks, right? If not longer? Well, guess who entered the wrong date into his calendar, and never bothered to look at the date on the tickets to double-check?
Jeff and I showed up at the State Theater (after an oddly uncomfortable Happy Hour in the conference room at work), only to find... Patton Oswalt's name not on the marquee, a number of Latinos milling about the entranceway, no real crowd.
Seems that a Spanish band of some sort was playing there last night. Patton wasn't due to perform for another 24 hours.
I had tickets for Patton's show on Saturday night. I showed up on Friday.
And because I have plans to visit Shane this weekend in Jersey... I can't even go to this show that I was so looking forward to. I have to eat the money.
If you are interested in the tickets, Teso has them. Since you might not know who Teso is, give me a call on my cell today if you're interested in going... maybe we can get you in to tonight's show for free.
And I gained weight this morning, for the first time since I started this nonsense a month-and-a-half ago.
Not much-- just a pound-- but enough to really piss me off.
This weekend with Shane had BETTER be good.
I need some relief.
This made me shake my head, for about 37 different reasons.
This is far more enjoyable, though... thanks, Dad, for passing it along.
Ladies, trust me now... you can thank me later.
If I don't happen to speak to you for awhile, Vicki... we're all gonna miss you. Have a safe trip to San Francisco, and a very happy return home!