The New Sense

Thursday, August 15, 2002

Yesterday was a mindless write-off. Even last night I didn't sleep well. I never really believed those people who've had their places robbed and who say they feel violated, but it's true — I do. I kept checking the locks and the windows. The thunderstorms didn't help either.
At least tonight's Dave's party. B— 's promised he'll come to the bar. I swear everyone I know thinks I'm going out with a recluse. And who am I to argue? "No, silly, he's not a recluse — he's a Neanderthal! He just feels safer in his cave, that's all."
Still, let's look on the bright side — there's been no sign of Sean since the Toronto ruse (oooh, that's a good word — I feel like I'm Nancy Drew!) a week ago.
I'm going to have to be careful with the drinks tonight, and I know what it'll be like — a round of Jamieson here, shots of tequila there, with Olga smiling from the bar at her tanked protégés. If I stick to tequila I'll be able to do the old water-switch with Chris's help. I'll just tell her I'm feeling sick.

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posted by Sara