I am having a rough go of it today. It didn't help that I had to send one of my "Please use a more professional tone in your email communications" email to an employee this morning (which translates to "Please don't be an asshole to me or I won't fucking help you, bitch").
I shirked and YouTubed on Saturday day before heading out to Esperpento near Valencia for Dascha's birthday at night. It was tapas, sangria, and good times, but it wiped me out, and I came home and crashed.
Sunday, I trekked out to Dog Patch, which sounds like some podunk horror of a place, but is actually a quaint suburban-like patch of Frisco that affords a gorgeous view of the downtown skyline. It was one of those days where it's bright but not sunny, and crisp without being too cold, and it made me happy to be alive. I picked up a few new work clothes at Van Heusen (I know it's terrible that the economy sucks, but for those of us still gainfully employed, these crazy 50% off sales are sssssimply delicious), and later on in the evening, chatted with LM about her "All About Eve" moment at work.
I've been tinkering with the idea of moving. I say tinkering because I'm not fully toying with the idea whatsoever. I just figure, if I'm going to move, now would be the time while rents are down. And I could possibly find a place with a view. It seems you can't walk down a block in this city without seeing a For Rent sign. But I hate moving more than anything. I had to move my senior year of high school and every year in college. I've been at my current place for over four years now, the longest I've ever lived in one apartment since I moved to SF. And I pay next to nothing in rent.
It's a bit of a debacle to deal with, yes.
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