the elusive middle path

Last weekend, I went out three nights in a row and accomplished absolutely nothing. It was a blast, but my body revolted. The weekend before that, I stayed in and took care of all sorts of To Do List-esque activities. It was productive, but I was lonely and sad. I learned from this that I need to strike a balance between having a life and taking care of my life. This weekend, a balance was struck. I'm not so sure if it was the right type of balance, but hey, progress is progress.

While I spent the majority of the weekend intoxicated, I didn't squander half a rent payment on alcohol (hooray for little brown bags,) hit on any over-confident 30-year-old men with Morrissey tattoos, or throw up out any cab windows. I saw friends old and new and even talked to strangers, two of whom do what I want to do for a living and made me want to do it even more. I had my hair highlighted, got a tattoo, bought some cheap but not cheap looking sunglasses, and learned how to tie a cherry stem in a knot with my tongue. All was right with the world.

Well, except that my apartment is a mess, I'm feeling some guilt after my mom's (finally) vocalized disapproval of my self-destructive fun, and my financial situation is not so stellar. Turns out I forgot to deposit my last paycheck, and it also turns out that my last rent payment was just cashed. This means I am effectively penniless until Shitibank processes the deposit I will be making tonight. Nothing says "Stay in and put away your clean laundry, and maybe even study for the test you're taking next week, you LUSH" like the triple threat of a maxed out credit card, overdrawn checking account, and overdrawn overdraft protection. If I were a Jesus freak I'd say this was a sign from God.