2002-05-23 - 12:59 a.m.

Been going out after work so much lately. Trying to stay out of the apartment, I guess. Seeking diversion. Also seeing what's out there.

I guess.

I've had maybe two days off this month.

Wait, let's put this into perspective.

I worked 13 out of 14 days.

Twice.

In a row.

One Big Company-free day every two weeks.

Don't mind too much. Saving for a new apartment. Money for going out after work. Helpin' the Big Company. The interviewers got a little extra money.

Good for the economy.

Well, I've had an economy of days off.

I can be kept going on life support, but I can never again be a functioning human being.

That kind of thing.

This weekend, though.

This weekend I have three days off. Saturday, I'm going to see Patti Smith, They Might be Giants, and Suzanne Vega.

For free. Outdoors.

So. I have three days off. In a row. The (ex) Girlfriend is going to be away for the weekend (not that I plan on being capricious, mind you).

This is the my life equivalent to going away for vacation.

If I don't have a kickass time, and every minute, if I spend every minute watching the Red Sox on TV, cleaning, masturbating, worrying, and maybe going on a half-ass walk, I may as well throw in the towel.