I had serious issues crawling out of my bed this morning -- who knew 5 days of heavy drinking and no sleep might slow me down? I finally felt compelled to do so when I heard my roommate who doesn't even have a job heading out the door, and figured getting to work by 11am might be enough to look like I'm still trying.
Additionally, I looked at a few numbers regarding my upcoming departure from the greatest city in the world, and ended up a little disturbed:
Days until I leave NYC: 16
Movers scheduled: 0
Bills cancelled: 0
Other practical preparations made: 0
Farewell parties completely scheduled and organized: FOUR
If this wasn't so fucking typical of my retarded priorities, I'd be somewhat amazed at my own stupidity right now.
Point of it all? There might not be a weekend recap until tomorrow. I'm sure you understand.
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