I'm having a bit of a strange night.  Strange weekend maybe.  Hell, strange week?

Last weekend was wonderful and horrific for reasons you've probably already heard about.  Safe to say, they set me up to begin the week more exhausted than I normally am by the end of a normal week.  Then with work and school and life, it was just a long, wearing week.  I spent Friday night watching The Road to El Dorado and drinking.  Not to excess, no worries there.  Today, I went to a movie and came home with nothing to do and no one to talk to.  Kind of a strange feeling, not going to lie.  So I marathoned Bones, got bored lying on the couch, and pulled every comforter, random blanket, and pillow I possess into a giant pile on my living room floor.  I basically nested, in the childish way, not the pregnant way.  And here I've been, curled up on the floor in a pile of fluff and material ever since.  It's pretty comfortable, to be honest.

Is the choice of activities this weekend a sign of regression?  After the stress of last week, am I choosing cartoons and floor campouts as a way to revert back to a part of my life that is less stressful and was more carefree?  Or maybe I'm just going crazy because I'm used to having someone to chat with, and everyone has somehow found something else to do the last couple nights?  Or maybe I'm just so bored that I needed to find something -- anything -- to mix it up a little bit?  I don't know.

I'm not really even sure why I'm writing, because I don't feel like I really have anything to say.  Perhaps I'm creating an outlet for verbiage since I don't have any other outlet right now.

Clearly, I'm hypothesizing too much about myself.  Stop psychologizing yourself, Sisco.  Save it for coworkers and people you see in stores.

Side note: If my neighbors keep smoking this much pot, I'm pretty sure I'm going to have a contact high.  Seriously, guys, it smells awful.  Lay off.  I'm guessing their mother is out of town on a trip again.  At least they're quiet when they're high?  It's something

I'm tired but I don't really want to go to sleep.  Going to bed now almost feels like defeat.  That makes no sense, I know.

I'm just going to stop before my ridiculousness gets the best of me and I get super crazy.  Maybe that's just the residual pot in the air.  Who knows.

This was a lot of nonsense.  Sorry.  Maybe next time it'll be more worth your time?  That of course implies that reading my rambling is ever worth your time, which I'm not convinced is true.

If the neighbor does not stop saying HULLO into his phone, I'm going to start responding.  And with that, I'm out.

11:25pm 29.6.13