I managed to get some sleep when I got home from work, till around 8 or a little after, when Carm came home (with a Five Guys Burger, no less. I was jealous.). I then had to make myself something to eat (Smart Ones Ravioli, not bad, just not enough food. Had to follow it up with a bag of my Crisps), whilst watching the Rock of Love Reunion on VH1, or as I like to call the network, The Harbinger of the Apocolypse. Anyways, Nick came down and we headed to Club Charles around 10, so it was a pretty early start. Met his friend Rob there. I had two white Russians, a vodka (or vodker, as they are often pronounced) and diet, and then I think two regular Diet Cokes. Nick had a Yingling, two Jameson and Cokes, and a Beefeater Gin and orange juice. He swore it tastes like an orangesicle, but I still didn't want to try it. Gin and I don't get on very well. Prehaps if I hadn't already had the other drinks I'd have tried it, but with the orange juice, I'm leary. Anyways, he insisted on stopping for hotdogs at the 711 in Hampden at nearly 2 am. I swear I'm going to get big as a house if I keep up this eating junk, or atleast stuff with bread (like Subway) late at night all the time. Headed home, straight to bed, in a manner of speaking haha. Got around three hours of uninterrupted sleep, then got up this morning and proceeded to take my pill, get dressed, brush my teeth, and get back in bed for a couple of minutes. Nick got up fairly easily today, and was really mindful about not making me late, and I told him I don't mean to seem like I'm rushing him out, because the last thing I want to do is get out of bed myself, especially when he's there, as well. I just don't want to get sacked. If they do fucking suspend me, it will be the most self-defeating thing ever, and I hope they do it on a Friday or the Thursday before Philly, and really spite themselves. Please, punish me for "poor attendence" by making me not come into work. Thank You. You've given me a day off, a day off without pay, but I never accumulate fucking PTO anymore anyways, so it's no different. I don't know if we will meet at Two For Tuesdays tonight or drive together. I should try to not to stay to close tonight, but who knows.

I got a text from Rob yesterday regarding my most recent blog on MySpace about when I ordered the Crisps from England. Even though I posted it over a week ago, this was the first he saw it and he texted me to let him know if they were as good as they were when we were there the other year. Rather than texting, I just called him and we spoke for probably fifteen minutes or so. Initially, talking about the damn crisps, and the trip itself, made me very sad and I felt like why am I doing this to myself, dredging up these memories, and how we both speak so fucking fondly about that time and our past, yet everything is so obliterated now. It blows my mind how very much we loved eachother, and how that fact is acknowledged, but really, what else could be done? Anyways, then he got off on a tangent about City Paper's parties and upcoming events, so I mentioned places Nick and I have been and played the scene-points up as much as was necessary. He said he's started a Blogspot to do reviews of bars and restaurants for fun and eventually in the hopes he can get a promotion to write like that for the paper, so of course I'm going to have to try to dig around for that. I wonder if he, or anybody for that matter, wanted to find this blog, they could determine it was me. I hope not, because I like that this one is completely anonymous, unlike LJ. He asked if I was going to Ottobar tonight and I said of course, so I suppose we'll see eachother there tonight. I don't know how to feel about the whole thing. It really is what it is, and while I'm not always sure what that might be, it somehow makes sense in an all-encompassing way.

Even though I have a queen size bed, somehow Nick managed to sleep with his head on my pillow, and the whole other side of the bed empty, but atleast it was the bed and not the sofa, so I was happy.