My ac is still not fixed. Satan got hot, so he went back down to hell. So it's just me here. Typing on my computer with sweaty hands. But, you know, this has been one of the most fun weekends I've had. It's my first one since quitting the camera store. Which, actually, I kind of miss. I was able to swim every morning and there was zero stress. No goals I had to meet. No percentages I had to match. Nothing. I just got paid my hourly wage and went home. I wonder if they'll take me back on the condition that I only work weekdays and no weekends. But the paychecks at the weighloss place are twice that of Click, so I'm not complaining. Yet. I will officially be debt-free as of next month. Much excitement there. So, my weekend. Friday I went to a cookout in Troy with The Boy, and we went to a bar after. Now, I'm not a fan of the bar scene, but this one was actually much fun. We played foosball twice. The first game we were not scored against. But the Long Island had kicked in by the second game and I let a few go by. But we still won. Then a few people went back to his place to play guitar and sing and I finally made it home by 5, only to be up in two hours for work. I rolled out of bed, brushed my teeth, and put on some business clothes. I felt so nasty--same make up and hair as the night before--but work was fine. Actually, a little more fun being loopy. Kelly, a counselor, loves me, and everything I say cracks her up, so we had a ball. Then I came home and washed the stink of the bar off me (in a cold shower, mind you. On purpose), and The Boy and I went to the driving range for a golf lesson. Now, I've never played before. And it was kind of sad. I mean, there were times I would swing and completely miss the ball. But at least I had a couple of good hits, so it wasn't completely embarassing. Plus there were two twelve-year-olds next to us who were about as good as me, so that helped my ego. And Tosh just called me to tell me we had been invited to hang out with two cute boys in their hot tub and have some beers. I'm on my cell with her, and she's i-m-ming the boy. I have to go talk to her. This is too difficult, I can't concentrate. And the conversation is hysterical. More later...