So, that's what happens when you go to bed in a bad mood. You wake up in a worse mood and write bullshit like the stuff I wrote yesterday. Then, you get to work and hear some (potentially) good news from your coworker, and it cheers you up a bit. It's nice to know you're not that self-centered. You are genuinely happy for your coworker. As the day wears on, you feel even better, but wonder what you will do after work. It is Friday night. Then your friends start congregating in front of the store, one coming in to buy smokes and another dropping off the Dirty Thirties cd--it has EVERYTHING. You will celebrate the fact that it was Patrick's birthday on Wednesday and it will be your birthday on Tuesday. You consider going to Stage Nine with your neighbours. Your friends don't want to pay 8 dollars to sit on the patio and they are not interested in the show. You're not really interested in the show either, and just want to have a good time with your friends. You find a place to sit on the patio on top of the Argyle. You spend yet another Friday night, sitting on a patio and looking at your place of work. You know you'll be back in this part of town in just over 12 hours from now. You go home to sleep while your buds go to the Seahorse. It's not often those people are all together. Mark lives in Toronto and works for a shoe company, Brian and Meaghan are moving to Japan soon, and I only really see Patrick and Ryan when Brian is around (or I bump into them at the Horse). You go home, pop in the Dirties, and drift off to sleep, making up for the late night at the gay bar, dancing. You wake up well rested and ready for another day at work. You ponder what tonight will become. You're jealous that your friend got to play pool with Duff, Slash, Matt Sorum. You realize that you're happy it happened to someone you know; it makes a great story. You especially enjoy the Scott Weiland part of the story, telling your friend how to get more pussy. You remind yourself again that you have found Nancy's ring and placed it safely in your purse.