So I never got my DVR. I am not as cutting-edge as I would like to appear.
I carriedmy old cable box all the way to the cable box store. I even rode the bus to get there, which should tell you a little something about how much I want this DVR. Then I stood in line for 45 minutes, only to be told that I had to pay my current bill before they could add a new service. No problem, right?
It would have been no problem, had I not inexplicably removed my checkbook from my satchel yesterday morning.
Sigh.
Following that little disappointment, I popped over to the Upper East Side to meet up with Flex after work. And since his parents are out of town, nobody was there to stop us from going back to their place, jumping into their pool, and taking a little midnight swim (cough cough). That bit was great, but it was a little strange falling asleep in his little brother's bed.
And now, I am wasting away my day here at work, looking through online catalogs for pants to buy. My current pair seems to be mere moments away from falling apart, and buying new is no longer an enjoyable task, it is officially a necessity. I am currently rocking the flared jeans / light blue button-up wherein I am trying out that whole only-tucking-things-in-in-the-front thing (and it seems to be working fairly well) / multi-colored-checked-tie-that-is-the-hottest-tie-in-the-world in a relaxed loose knot / spiky hair / aviator glasses / Docs. And when I say I am rocking that look...I am ROCKING that look. I only wish I had remembered to pack my black leather and silver chain wrist band. Oh well -- I will know for next time.
And finally -- what kind of fucking insane dijon mustard is on my croque monsieur? My tasty lunch sandwich seems to be made of ham, cheese, mushrooms, and apparently napalm, carpetbombing the delicate tissues of my insides with firey love.