Home Alone

Guy is playing football today and I have the house all to myself. I was looking forward to some weekend alone time; sewing, a jog, a little light cleaning. Glamorous, I know.

Instead I'm sitting in my bathrobe a little hung over. Last night we went out for a birthday happy hour. Things went well, fun was had. In a very uncharacteristic move Guy made a small scene by shouting at another patron who was an incredible douche bag. I liked it. A lot. I found his assertiveness both fun and attractive. Prior to the shouting I stole some glassware that I had been admiring all night but had no intention of stealing. I did it because I was drunk and crabby with the bar for tolerating/indulging the douche bag's douchbaggery. Despite feeling slightly guilty I'm going to keep the cups. We went bowling, ate more food, drank more beer. I sucked as usual, but had fun. My skinny jeans looked good with bowling shoes. We made plans with friends to get out of town for spring break. And were home by midnight. A good night. Now I just need to get off my butt and go get our car.

Update: It also appears I lost my cell phone.
New Update: Cell phone not lost, just mislaid. Whew.