Slow evening.

So I'm sitting here, 11:09 on a Friday evening. Drinking a glass of cheap, way-too-sweet, white wine and reading. And while this sounds quasi charming in type, in reality it's just pathetic. It's only the wine that's letting me pout about my lack of a social life but still... How do you start from nothing? I had friends. I had people to laugh with. But we're all over the country now. So now what? How do I start from scratch? All the people at work are older and married. I don't know how to go about meeting people when I've got nothing to go on. Blind friendships.

Someone take me out! Someone magically appear. I'm tired of being responsible for my own happiness.

I guess that's the moral of the story. I've already realized life is only what I chose to make of it. But I'm tired of that responsibility. I suppose we all are.


Song of the evening: Relief by Chris Garneau