Funny note to re: yesterday’s journal entry: My cousin Ellie, of the dream I had on Wednesday night, called me yesterday from Hawaii (her current residence). I suppose in my little dream world I heard Sam (or my version of Sam, or whatever) telling me to go to Ellie. Then last night Ellie calls me and doesn’t even say hello, just waited until I picked up the phone to say, “WHEN ARE YOU COMING TO VISIT ME?” I’ve honestly been on the fence about when to visit her. She’s currently pregnant, due sometime in May, and moving to San Francisco in June. I’ve been trying to decide whether I should visit her in Hawaii sometime in February or just wait until this summer or next fall and visit her in San Fran. Just checked Priceline.com and looks like it’ll cost $634 round-trip to Honolulu. I should really go, since I won’t have to pay for a car or a place to stay, but I just feel like our options will be limited. Since she’s prego I can’t really expect to go surfing, rock climbing, or mountain biking. Though when she called me last night I had just shaken the snow of off my boots and my jeans and my hands were numb from walking the dogs, and she was sitting outside in the shade of a palm tree on an 80-degree day. I think it might be worth the $600 just to jog on the beach at sunrise without wearing a snowsuit.

Other than that my night was pretty calm. Yesterday was my friend Jessica’s birthday, so I met her and Jesse and their baby at Dena’s on the West Side to celebrate with dinner (yummy stromboli!) and a beer or two for the single, irresponsible non-parent at the table (yeah, me). It was a bit uncomfortable, to be honest. Apparently Jesse forgot that it was her birthday, didn’t even wish her a Happy Birthday or a give her a card or anything. Then she started in on him about drinking and smoking pot now that they have a child, I kept popping up from the table, running to the bar in the other part of the restaurant, and grabbing a drink and a smoke in order to get the hell out of that mess. Ah, love.

Today is my slave day. Working about 16 hours. Yippee! Yes, I know it’s not TRULY a slave day as I’m being paid and not beaten, however any workday over 12 hours qualifies as a slave day in my book. So there.

Saturday and Sunday I’m off. I can’t believe that I actually have two simultaneous non-working days in a row. This hasn’t happened since July, I think. I plan on taking care of some house issues with my landlord Saturday morning before going out with friends for Jessica’s birthday, and Sunday is completely open. Maybe I’ll drive to Peninsula and walk by the river (cold but beautiful in January), or go to Home Depot and buy the necessary tools to start de-wallpapering my kitchen. Might havta buy a shovel too, my driveway is getting sort of ridiculous, and my poor dogs have short doggie legs and could probably use a path through the snow.

Or maybe I’ll just go and buy that plane ticket to Honolulu.