If you ask someone who just observes my life they would swear that I am busy, but what they really don’t realize is I’ve just mastered the art of procrastinations. This art is accomplished by lots of lovely distractions disguised as friends and activities. I’m not complaining. I wouldn’t change my life or how busy I feel, especially now that volleyball is over and done with through March. I’m just saying, just because I may seem busy don’t mean that I’m actually accomplishing anything. I take that back. I am living. And that is quite the accomplishment. And I am loving it.

Last night (Wednesday) I went to a Hornets basketball game. Everyone around me was probably smashed, especially all the people who managed to make in on the Dance Cam. I was stone cold sober. Last night I remember how to let lose without alcoholic sanction. It felt good. And I was still awake to drive home. Why did I just say alcoholic sanction? I’m a fag. I’m leaving it though.

Countdown
Days ‘til 2505 reunited? Seven
Days ‘til date night is reinstated? Five
Days ‘til Christmas? 49
Days ‘til Mardi Gras? 108
Days ‘til Christmas music plays in stores? Negative Four (Ohh)

Tonight has goodness written all over it in pretty handwriting. Leave work to meet Gracious for sushi and wine, leave Gracious to go to Aprel’s for Grey’s Anatomy & Private Practive with more wine. It’s just a typical Thursday but it’s what gets me through work on Wednesday and Thursday.

Next week, Tuesday date night is reinstated, which is what will get me through Monday & Tuesday of next week. I know it’s cheesy, but I just look forward to downtime with him. We go a lot. And we are more times than not surrounded by company or in public, so to have some alone time to just be each other feels wonderful.

Last night the Hornet’s scored a 3 pointer to tie the game with 2 seconds left on the clock. Everyone was screaming and jumping and excited. He clapped Brad’s hand and Mary’s hand and somehow forgot to turn my way and cheer with me. Once overtime was underway I looked at him and told him what he did. I told him in a lighthearted “how could you leave me hanging like that” kind of way. He felt bad, said he was sorry and all was good again. When the Hornets won I was the first person he turned to cheer with. It’s nice to know that I can tell him what bothers me and we can move forward and not just past it (if that makes since). It’s a stupid story, but I think it speaks volumes.