twenty-something

It's quarter of nine, and I am freaking out. This non-date meet-up thing has me on edge. I've spent large portions of the last hour trying to salvage my horrible hair, so much so that I didn't give as much thought to an outfit. So what I'm wearing is very thrown together and my hair looks like shit. Plus Duncan reads this damn blog-thing now, and he IMed me while I was in the bathroom to wish me luck on my "date." Argh.

To calm myself, I just took half of one of my painkillers left over from my wisdom teeth and did a shot of "Mount Gay Rum," Mango-flavored, which my mom gave me at Christmas. I'm quite certain I may throw up and I have to leave in ten minutes. Or less. I'm so not the laid-back guy I think I am. I am a freakin' high-maintence bundle of nerves.

Oh fuck. I am not ready to date ever again. Love ya, Dunc.