I woke up late. Never made it to the gym. Never made it out with Pretty. I slept like crap last night for some reason – lots of dreams lately. Not nightmares, just dreams, but still not enjoyable when you can’t get a decent nights’ rest. I wonder if it’s the Prozac. Guess I’ll have to wait and see. The wonderful thing about blogging is that you inadvertently keep track of all these little details so you can see if a pattern emerges.

I did manage to watch the last half of Dirty Dancing. I don’t know why I don’t own a copy of that movie; I don’t know a single woman in the world who doesn’t love it. Every girl wants a Johnny Castle. Every girl between the ages of 25 and 50 has at one time been in love with Patrick Swayze. I hate to admit it, but it kinda made me miss Mud even more than usual.

I headed off to my barbecue today, too. One of the women at work invited me, and it was nice. Including herself and her boyfriend, there were six of us. My former coworker and his wife were one of the couples. It was really great to see him again, and he’s looking good. After being diagnosed with diabetes, he’s lost thirty pounds, and it makes a difference. But she told me to arrive between two and three. So I showed up around two-thirty, and the other guests didn’t arrive until much later. Needless to say, I was the first to leave – at eleven thirty. I just couldn’t stay any longer; I was tired, I’d had enough to drink, and tomorrow is another day.

Nevertheless, who can complain about being fed steak and cooler after cooler after glass of wine after dessert liqueur? I drank more today than I normally do in a month. That’s okay, I was still good to drive. I had a long time to “sober up”, as if I needed it.

It also doesn’t help that I’ve spent most of my day missing Mud. To the point that it physically aches. I’m lonely. I was lonely today. I wish he was here. As T. pointed out, it will probably be worse after I see him in August. I’ve already mentally catalogued what I’d have to actually take with me. The contents of the Ikea cupboard. My trunk, and my desk from my grandmother. That’s it. The rest is all disposable, minus my clothes, of course. I’d like to take my Lagostina pots, but really. . . .

Funny how when it all comes down to it, the “stuff” that we accumulate, that we put such value on, is mostly irrelevant to our actual lives.