Socks and the City

Carrie Bradshaw in Sex and the City knew that her love life was dry when she started comparing men to her socks. I on the other hand, realized that my love life was non-existent (despite the outward appearance of something happening in that department,) tonight as I sat on the couch watching Carrie Bradshaw write about socks.

My roommate Emily's boyfriend is in town. He goes to college up in Wooster, so she doesn't see him often, (and being the good person I occasionally am) I promised her I would vaporize. So last night after hanging out with Scuba and Jen who came in town for the evening we crashed on the floor downstairs. Today though was different. My guests left at one, and so I had all day to bond with the couch. I attempted watching a movie (which I fell asleep during,) only to be woken up later by people making food in the kitchen. I cooked dinner, which didn't take long enough. And it didn't help that it was for my other roommate and her boyfriend. I attempted homework but was distracted by marathon episodes of The Gilmore Girls. I continued on the homework path but still found the TV to be distracting, and flipped between both shows. I called Chris. Three times. I attempted to hang out with "the girls"... but even that didn't work out. And we won't even mention talking to the "best guy friend" to see what he was doing. Or thinking about IM-ing the guy that I really can't stand but somehow put up with.


So that leaves me here in my room blogging. Which of course in an hour will no longer be my room, and I'll return downstairs to my... couch.

I think the worst part of this all is feeling pathetically sorry for myself. I know I shouldn't. I should be happy I'm single. Single is fun.

Ha.