What About Sunday?

Yesterday I was too pooped to play. It was one of those long nights on Saturday. You know. The kind where you spend a lot of time in the car just driving around and singing to the radio/CD player. You drive by peoples houses you know just because you don’t know why. Then you decide to get some dinner and while you’re on your way to Qdoba to get your self a delicious Fajita Ranchera Burrito your ex-wife calls, the second one, and tells you that your friends from Bellaire are in town and that you should come out and hang with them because the poor guy is stuck with about a dozen women (yeah, poor bastard, what a way to go out)… anyway, so I went. I mean really, why not. It was fun, the band was good, the company was good, and I got out fairly cheap (what with the ex owing me, ha). But thank you none the less.

It was a good night. Probably too good. But I have to thank my friends for their good advice, it worked out rather well, they’re great people. The ex says I won them in the divorce, but I think we can share them. I do need to take the bike up there and see them and their new house this summer. Okay, where was I… I think it was about 9:00 am when I finally rolled in the front door. I crashed for like, maybe two hours, and my sister only tried to wake me up twice to make her pancakes…. Listen bitch, make your own pancakes 🙂 I ain’t getting up for nobody.

When I did get up I was just kinda out of it. I wrote some song lyrics, haven’t done that in years, but they’re not very good and so I’ll not share them. Besides everybody has been giving me advice about my little, married lady that goes something like “get over it, you knew it wouldn’t last. I mean, fuck. SHE’S MARRIED.” And since I don’t want to get any more of that nonsense, I’ll just keep the lyrics to myself. I studied a little, very little. And I finished up my 2006 taxes. I think I was in bed by 9:30 pm. That was my Sunday.