I'm in a bad fuckin' mood, and I've been mostly wasting my time all fuckin' day. This is mostly due to my boyfriend, or fairly, my insistence upon spending time with him.

I crashed at his house last night. We were watching some episodes of Monty Python's Flying Circus on DVD 'cos he owns the whole frickin' series. The show doesn't put me to sleep; only the movies. Anyway, I was tired (yes, at 10 p.m.) and fell asleep partway through the second episode. After they finished, we were both tired and went to bed.

We both woke up around 7ish, but I was still sleepy, so I fell back to sleep. So did he, despite claiming to be unsleepy. MInd you, he'd only gotten up around 5 on Friday. I woke up again, finally, around 9:30, and he was still fast asleep. So I read the latest issue of The Nation. Then I read more of On Writing Well. I got to the chapter on travel writing and memoirs and read several passages of people who did things in life, saw new places, met people, and wrote about them. I wanted to know someone, specifically my boyfriend. In the biblical sense. But he was asleep, so this was unlikely to occur.

It was then that I realized it was, oh, about quarter to one in the afternoon. Fuck! I put on my dirty clothes and headed for the door. I mean, why bother sticking around when he's going to sleep all fucking day and I do, in fact, have other things I could be doing? So I left, feeling disgruntled.

I did things at home, like grocery shopping and talking to my mom, who has kindly half-offered me the Civic if I can handle insurance. It all depends on what makes the most sense for all of us. I don't need a car right now, but I probably will within the year, and the Civic is a nice car. It would be such a sweet deal to get a car I could never afford on whatever salary I'm likely to receive straight out of college.

At 6, I met Chris and Graylan and we checked out #2 again. It was nicer on the second viewing, and we were shown the backyard and asked several more questions. The house has a lot of pluses--gas heat, big yard, good rent, close to everything, dishwasher and washer/dryer--but it still feels small and a bit cramped, so it isn't our ideal house. It'd work. Then we walked to Taco Del Mar and ate a bite and talked of housey things before I crossed the street to catch the 44 westbound and they stayed behind for the 44 eastbound.

It was in Ballard that my troubles resurfaced. I called Kevin and asked him to meet me at the parking lot by the bus stop so I didn't have to walk the 10 blocks to his house--it was windy and chilly and I was tired. I got there, but there was no sign of his car. I walked around. I waited a bit, watching traffic. No sign. I called him. He said that his car stalled in the driveway, out of gas, so he was walking my way to get a gas container and gas so he could move it.

The first station we went to had their gas containers marked at $60, so we tried Safeway and Walgreen's, neither of which carried any gas containers, before going to another gas station further up the main road which had them for $4. Then we walked back to his house.

Upon arriving, I asked him to think of something to do. He came up blank. I made my usual suggestions that are almost always vetoed; he remained silent. I said I should just go home, then. He offered me a ride. I thought about it and said I might as well just walk. He countered that was silly since I'd called and asked him to pick me up earlier to avoid all the walking, which I had to do doubly anyway. So I took the ride. And it was a good thing, because it was raining and I'm wearing my red satin jacket that doesn't like moisture.

So anyway, I'm grumpy because I'm in the same damn place I would've been two hours ago if I'd just gone home in the first place, but with the added disappointment of trying and failing to do something enjoyable. So now I just have nothing enjoyable to do.

Fuck it. I'm going to watch mindless shit on TV and eat junk food like I always do.

Stupid weekends have a way of leaving a bad taste in my mouth.

I should've just gone to Olympia.