worry about it later

[photo: Georgios M. W.]

On Friday, I got a call--another ex-roommate was coming into town with his girlfriend. I seem to have a lot of ex-roommates. I guess it should be a sign of how wonderful I am to live with that they all keep coming back, wanting to hang out.

Of course, this meant that me and Sparky were going to have to be prepared. I don't think he minds so much anymore; he knows his time is short. We're both just trying to make the best of it, my liver and I.

It turned out a whole bunch of people came into town this weekend, which I would normally enjoy, but on this particular weekend, I was flat out of cash. Since Monday, I've been below $20 in my bank account, which has prevented me from asking the ATM for more money--it dispenses its life giving cash in increments of 20 only.

But it's only money--I've never had much use for it. I'd rather not have it, which may be why I'm so bad with it. My poor handling of money isn't entirely my fault; I don't make that much, and what I do make goes to pay back the fucking government for sending me to college--eight years that will take the rest of my life to pay off.

But, again, it's only money. This weekend was a lot of fun and taught me how resourceful I can be--especially if I want to get blind drunk, which I spent a good portion of the weekend doing. I couldn't afford much food, which turned out for the best; whatever scraps I mustered couldn't stand up to the stiff, pint-sized rum and cokes I got at the local watering hole. Luckily, I had left over pizza, provisions to make a tuna fish sandwich and a credit card with just enough room on it to afford me a bomb-ass 2:30pm breakfast this late afternoon. I really can't complain. I don't have to sleep outside in the rain.