A post in which I am hypocritical

I woke up this morning to yet. More. Rain.  This is four straight days.  Since I was home sick all last weekend and missed the nice weather, it feels like four straight weeks.  Resignedly, I got ready for work swam made my way to the boat car, and paddled drove to work.  It rained all day.  Sometimes more heavily and sometimes more lightly, but all. Day.  My spirits were lower than a well-diggers ass.

It was a fairly quiet day at work.  I borrowed trouble by emailing my boss about the twit meeting.  It wasn't scheduled for this month, and I had a mini-debate with myself about whether or not he would notice.  I finally decided it would be worse for him to try to cram it in at the last moment with no warning than to remind him that he hadn't scheduled it.  He promptly scheduled for tomorrow.  So I had that report to do.  But I was able to finish it and work on write-offs. 

Tonight was the Thursday night dinner, to which I had responded as if I were going to attend.  I got in touch with the boys about using their house as a staging area tonight, but Billy told me not to come, that they were meeting at the restaurant.  Logan had told me to come on.  So I don't know what they had planned at the house tonight (that was their business).  But at the end of the day, it was still freakin' raining, and not being able to go over there kind of screwed my plans sideways.  I got to the car, and sat there, chilled, damp, and cold.  Then I thought about what would be involved in going to dinner tonight. 

- Drive the half hour home in the rain
- Unload the car, get in the house, and dry off
- Feed the shrieking cats
- Change clothes and get warm
- Go back out into the sodden, cold world
- Drive at least twenty minutes back across town (probably more, because I would go through town in this weather)
- Pay too much for a meal I didn't really want, and couldn't really afford
- Wait at least an hour to eat (probably more - the last time we were at Longhorn, the service moved at a glacial pace)
- Get home later than I wanted to, and get to bed late

Yes I love my friends, and yes I wanted to see them, but it was just too much (and yes, I understand the inherent hypocrisy in cancelling on dinner for the sake of comfort and convenience when I had just upbraided Brian for doing that on Tuesday) (I got the text that he was actually going to be there tonight).  But I think my reasons were a bit more compelling than just that I didn't want to spend 2.5 minutes on Woodruff Road.  I'm just sayin'. 

So I went home, ate dibs and dabs out of the fridge (along with the frozen spaghetti I bought Tuesday night) in my comfy warm clothes, vegged in front of telly, and played on the computer. 

I've been staying off of Adam4Adam after the Bacchian excesses of my vacation, but I went on tonight just to check messages and stuff.  I had one from a guy named Anthony.  He's cute as a bucket o' puppies, and seems to be into me.  We talked for a bit, but it was time to turn in.  So I sent him my number.  Caught between 'hope springs eternal' and 'there's no fool like an old fool'...