worst day ever.

It's a cliche, but I hate Mondays. Seriously. Unless you're a rock star or a worthless politician who doesn't really have to work anyway, there's no reason to like a Monday. Granted, my job is pretty cake, but still. I have to think, answer questions and make deadlines--none of which I'm good at-- instead of snorting blow off of a groupie's backside or pretend to look concerned when all I really care about is setting myself up for life and backslapping the good ol' boys who got me into office.

Sorry. I really shouldn't have gotten out of bed....

...And I almost didn't! My alarm didn't go off, which is to say it did go off, but only woke me up enough to shamble across my room and shut it off before going back to sleep. Normally, I would have an excuse for this, like I got sooo wasted bro, or I did soooo much work, but there really is none. All I did was spend all day online, checking out the football games, laying in bed and watching the first season of Nip/Tuck. I ended up sleeping straight through my usual Monday meeting, and then barely made it to the office in time to go to a noon (NOON!) lunch meeting, during which i did nothing but nod my head and try my hardest to pay attention (since I'd just got out of bed) and not watch ESPN on the television in the far corner of the restaurant. At least I got a free lunch out of it.

I returned to the office to briefly slog through my usualy Monday busy work, which is tedious, but admittedly rewarding, befor moving on to a press conference, where I was provided pretzels and a bottle of water.

Things started to pick up when I got a call from my out of town friend who said we were going to the strip club. This wasn't a request, but just a statement of fact. When he says we're going, we're going, and there's nothing I can really do about it, not that I'd put up much of an argument. It was slow, but there was a fleet of women working, for whatever reason, even the tiny wrecking ball of a woman who kicked my wimpy ass the last time I went. I wasn't sure whether that was good or bad, but I put aside extra money...just in case.

I made a mistake, I think, because I got a lap dance from the first stripper I saw, which is kinda like buying the first puppy you see at the kennel--or maybe not.

Anyway, I'd barely sat down before I was caught up in the lapdance special. Her bedside manner wasn't the greatest, and I soon became more interested in the TV on the far wall than in the dance. I felt bad, but I made sure I gave her a tip anyway. It turned out that the boring lapdance girl was something else on the stage and well worth the price of admission. It wasn't long before I was in the full swing of things, though,a nd just flashing the rock sign to girls who came danced to good songs and having fun--even if my two other friends were being kinda boring. Dollar bills became distant memories as I slapped them on the tip rail, and all the frivolous spending, with out fear of whether or not I'd be able to eat next week, felt really nice. I was still going to be able to stash some cash away.

The two friends who were being all boring wanted to leave and go drink, and that's when shit really got shitty. I got a call from my roommate reminding me of a housing issue that was going to cost me considerably--as poor as I am--so instead of going to the bar, I had them drop me home so I could get some thing straight. Everything worked out ok, but I'm going to be seriously broke with Halloween and my birthday coming up, and I'm not looking forward to it.

I ended up heading out to the bar to meet up with my friends, had a couple of drinks, or more...and got stuck in California's only torrential downpour on my way home. I decided to stop at the 7-Eleven to grab a quick snack--I only had Top Ramen for dinner--but the friendly clerk guy told me that the store was closed while the floors and windows were being cleaned. Not even he could get in there, he said. Wonderful. Hiding underneath the awning, the rain got even worse. I was soaking wet already and still had a mile-plus to go to get home, so I called a cab.

Here's to Tuesday.