Tonight my eyes are stinging from Bar Smoke. Even though Ronnie and I sat in the non-smoking section at Jack’s for our Chicken Pot Pie outing, I still got smoke in my eyes later at Simon’s where I met Cara. Now I’m trying to understand what this sneaky full moon is doing to all of us this weekend.
I came home and found a bag of juice boxes and cookies on my front door. My only door–it’s a condo. I don’t doubt that they are a thoughtful gift from my meshuganah neighbor, but I left them sitting outside the door for the night. I don’t need them and they are room temperature. Weird.
Ronnie and I, like I said, had our regular Chicken Pot Pie outing tonight. This was to help me recover from a bad CPP experience in Skokie last weekend. We got to telling “Crazy Ex” stories and I realized… I don’t have one. Perhaps because I quit having boyfriends in high school and have only recently started having “guys I date sort-of” that there isn’t room for the Crazy Ex. Ronnie beats me hands down, but ended (or began) the story with a warning, “Never date a friend.”
I could only combat with my rather weak story of Greg the Asshole who I kind of hung out with sort of in Durango. But really–but “ex-boyfriends” were not in the crazy realm. Lucky me.