Well, yes, I suppose it truly began yesterday, but when I began my short yet construction-addled drive to work yesterday and discovered a flat tire, it was sort of a wasted day.

Though I suppose I should start with a short (and dull) summary of the weekend preceding. Ah, yes. After that 15-hour Thursday I worked a lovely 16-hour Friday followed by a lazy Saturday morning and a grueling 10-hour Saturday night. Sunday morning found me laying on the couch, watching Meet the Press, various infomercials, and a stray DVD before dragging myself into the semblance of a vertical posture, showering, and heading to Frank and Dena's for a gathering.

After dinner at F&D's, my first home-cooked meal in months, we headed to the basement where I lay on yet another couch eating pixie sticks and taking turns playing darts. It was then that I pondered the differences between childhood and adulthood, with a somewhat predictable conclusion. Yes, I had a day off and was hanging out in a friend's basement eating candy, talking, and playing games. It struck me then that adulthood is not that different than childhood. It was a weekend and I was eating candy in my friends' basement while we played games. I suppose if you tried to temporarily forget the children sleeping upstairs, the fact that we all have to pay for our own basements as well as buy and cook the food, not much has changed.

Of course, factor alcohol and the possibility of sex (though still pretty remote for me), and it's a whole new ballgame.

So there was the weekend. Monday morning began with all the loveliness involved with being a single girl with a flat tire and absolutely no clue, and the week was off to a rollicking start. Though thanks to my lack of shame in calling absolutely everyone I know, once knew, and am somewhat remotely acquainted with for help, I managed to find someone who just happened to have the tire that I needed and gave it to me for free, as well as my dear mechanic friend Frank (he of the pixie-stick basement) and his mechanic buddy connections, the ordeal only cost me $8 (and yes, I'm ignoring opportunity cost here...it did take some time).

Last night I played darts (embarrassed with my recent ineptitude where cricket is concerned), drank some jager bombs, and headed home. And today? Well, today begins the yearly fall budget debacle that will cost me much time, aggravation, and perhaps a temper tantrum or two. That's what I get for accidentally letting both my numerical and Excel-related prowess leak in an environment of English majors and attorneys. Damn it if I don't know that there are some people here who are more than qualified to do this crap, but are keeping quiet. It's like those women who marry and then pretend like they don't know how to use a lawn mower to get out of mowing the lawn, or the men who pretend they don't know how to use an iron so that their wives/girlfriends will do it for them.

Bastards.