Some girl or two moved in downstairs in A’s house. Before it was guys who were always out tossin’ around the pigskin in the outpatient parking lot next door. Now it’s these tatted-up girls in tube tops, the types who might have had pigeon hairdo’s about two years ago. They’re bbq-ing today so invited us down. Puke.
Is something wrong with me that I don’t like to talk to girls? I think it’s just these girls because they put off an air of cooler than thou. Give me a break. It’s like they look at me like I’m not hardcore enough or sceney enough. So we went to the store and got a couple Cobras, might go hang for a little with them later. A clearly sees how I don’t want to hang out with them but insists he likes to know his neighbors and that he was friendly with the dudes that used to live there too. I don’t even know if I downed that Cobra if it will help me play nice. I feel like a hanger on being down there. I don’t need to be there. Once we got back and sat down in his living room he said, “We don’t have to go down there. It’s not really that important to me.” I said, “No, it’s fine. We can go down there.”
UGH I’m sick of working. I worked all night last night on upping my stats. We lied on the field in the sun for a while longer than yesterday. That was nice but I just wish I had a bike right now so I could cruise around everywhere all by myself. I feel antsy and lazy at the same time. I have a bunch of things I wish I could be doing but I have no idea what they are. More park sitting? Iced coffee drinking? Playing in the city? I probably just need a day at the beach.
