I went on a date last night with some architect. It was pretty boring all things considered. The highlight of the date was some Korean fast food place he showed me in the city. He also paid for my dinner. I’m not entirely sure why he did that. He’s an artsy, hipster-y kind of dude, and I’m….
My point being he probably saw from the get go we’re from the opposite side of the train tracks, yet he still foot the bill. His Spaniard mannerisms are quite nice.
My date ended short, like, that shit was over within an hour. I drove home, started to put my clocks forward on my stove and microwave (my house appliances haven’t sprung forward yet)… and then I passed out.
Fortunately I stumbled a bit to my knees before I caught the floor, but I fucked up my elbow pretty badly on the unforgiving tile. I don’t know how long I was out for. I remember I felt nauseous and had to take quick, shallow breaths. And then my body locked up. I let the sleep take me. I was so glad I made it home before unconsciousness had its way with me.
This is a fine time to make sure my health insurance is in order.