Chipping away with a hacksaw...

Ok.

So, we had plans to meet tonight. (Aiden, of course). I should start by saying that no one knows the pang of debt more than I. I struggle with it on a daily basis- well, I used to. Before I had the knowlege and power to tell bill collectors "Hey, you wanna sue over $300 bucks, go ahead, but lemme tell ya. Logic would denote that if I had said money, we wouldn't be having this conversation." And then I'd hang up. (Thanks, Dave!) SO- I know well of the need to work extra hours for payoff money.

So he cancels on me. Apparently, they call him very late in the day (oh, about 30 minutes to an hour before he was supposed to come over) and offer him a sweet armed security position for the night. (Armed=More money- following?) So he can't refuse.

He refuses me instead.

So... he calls to break the news and I'm in Target (pronounced Tar-ghay) searching for a Countertop Dishwasher (which apparently don't exist outside the magical realm of the internet- I'll write on that later.)

SO, devastated by this news, I begin to shop. Aimlessly. Dangerously. And I get home with two eyeliner pencils (white and black), a Ron White CD, Linkin Park/Jay Z Mtv Mashups album, The Grudge, Clerks Uncensored, and a couple of books. All in all, almost $100 worth of depression spending.

The books, ah, the books. The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks and He's Just Not That Into You by Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo. I honestly couldn't tell you how I stumbled upon the latter. I was wandering the small appliance aisle- trying to justify replacing my perfectly fine coffee maker with a $50 coffee maker that uses little pods when there it was- as though a gift from God trying to tell me that the work thing is a pathetic excuse and I shouldn't waste my valuable time on someone who can't blow off one fricking night of work to hang out with me and make sweet, sweet love. So I'm reading the book- and I realize... I don't think any guy I've ever loved was "that into me".

God, I'm depressed.

Anyway, it's a good book. Pick it up. Inspiring, blah blah.

Horseshit.