Sweeeets

I'm to the point where weekends blur into weekdays, and the only way I can differentiate between the two is by how much I drank last night (weekends: double or triple what I'd have on a weekday). Friday I worked until 520 was a wide open stretch of highway. Saturday, ditto. Sunday I took a short break, long enough to decide that, no matter how little money I had, I needed to do something before I lost it and tried to talk to/eat my computer. So I called Nick, who was also at the office and he met me at the apartment for a quickie. No muss, no fuss, and I didnt even have to buy him lunch. Sweet.

Also, I had my teeth cleaned this morning - which I would do daily if I had a million dollars or a dentist for a boyfriend - so now I'm sitting here eating two small Butterfingers. Okay, maybe three. And I've already been promised some chocolate cake as soon as Nick stops watching football long enough to go get it, so really, how bad can it be?