It was an awkward weekend of excess libations, long-standing hurts, heat boxes and current grudges against ex-landlords. Historic missteps and ill-chosen words from a damaged friendship haunted me, and that's no way to start the 2 days of freedom that is the weekend. At least Game Night was fun, but I over-indulged and paid the price on Saturday, hungover from beer and lack of sleep. Nursing that made me squander a gorgeous day out-of-doors, but at least I had the evening with friends to make up for it. Sunday was much more productive--gym, groceries, errands, cleaning--capped by a luxurious cup o' joe and a quiet chat with Des and Kristin in Des's backyard, newly spruced up thanks to Bryan's hard work. My one complaint is this, though: why is it that it can be lovely outside--70s, 80s, breezy--and be A TOTAL HEATBOX IN MY APARTMENT?!! I open all the windows and get not a breath of air, and the temperature doesn't get below a stifling 84 or so. What is that about, and how do I counter it?? I just don't see why I should be forced to turn on the A/C when it's nicer outside than it is in my home. WTF.
The rankling ex-landlord thing is a whole other story which I may detail at another time, but as its pending, I'll keep my council. Except to say that leering pervy scoff-law slumlords who try to bilk single women who are barely subsisting as it is will get theirs. Not from me, mind you--this is not a threat. But karma is a mutha. All I'm saying.
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