BLAHHHH

Confession: I went on a date last night.  "What? Why? Don't you like Chicago man? With who?" I got all of those questions yesterday after telling friends that I was going on said date.  I met the guy online before Chicago man and we were going back and forth for a while, but he was on a snowboarding trip and I was in Chicago, so it just never happened.  He came back from his trip and I had a day before I left for Chicago (again) so we decided to meet up in North Jersey, 50 minutes from my house to be exact. 

First and foremost, I had pre-packed for my Chicago trip a few days ago (as per usual) with the thought that I wouldn't be seeing Chicago man, only to find out yesterday that not only will I be seeing him, but probably on multiple occasions...and let the repacking begin. Of course a normal person would've repacked last night, but in true Lefty fashion I decided to repack AFTER the date (at a martini bar). 

Needless to say I wasn't feeling this date at all, I didn't want to go, didn't want to do my hair or make-up and literally tried on 3 different t-shirts before I picked a 10 year old Banana Republic tank to wear.  While driving up to this location I was thinking about how this could be classified as cruel and unusual punishment...I could be packing (properly) for the people I really do want to see, but instead I'm driving an hour each way, to sit and have a 12 point WW drink with a stranger I met online, and if he's anything like the rest of them, it will be a waste of my time.  I had researched the bar earlier in the day and it actually seemed really cool!  A little strange, because you had to park in the bottom of a hotel, but awesome none the less.  And it was!  The bartender, Eric, was very funny also and I should go back and personally thank him for being the HIGHLIGHT of my night.   A glass of wine and eight...that's right EIGHT glasses of water later, he asked if I wanted to 'hang out for a bit' or 'get going'.  UMM, hello, we have already established throughout this date that I can't really understand you with your speech impediment, you don't like sports and you didn't know the #1 seeds in the NCAA Tournament.  We've also established that I wake up at 5am for work and I haven't packed for Chicago.  You also selfishly picked a place 20 minutes from your house and TRIPLE the distance from mine and it is 10:30 pm on a Thursday, so no, I don't want to 'hang out for a bit'...I want to go home, pack and go to sleep.  Getting home was not an easy feat.  The restaurant was on level 'M', he knew he parked one level above the restaurant on P2 and got out of the elevator on that floor. I thought I parked on P3 but was quickly made aware that I didn't when my car was nowhere to be found.  I then went to P4 and P5 and my car was still NOWHERE.  I went back to P2 and again no car.  I did the same thing 3 or 4 times before I was in a sheer panic because I thought I was going to pee my pants from all the water and be kidnapped in this vacant parking deck and I did the only logical thing I could think of....call my mom.  The conversation went something like this:

Me: "Mom, I can't find my car...I really have to pee and I'm really tired and I just want to go home"
Mom: "Well where did you park it?"
Me: "Somewhere in this parking deck, but I swore it was P3 and it's not there, actually no cars are there, I'm all alone and it's really scary" (cue sobbing)
Mom: "He didn't walk you to your car?"
Me: "No. Even if he did, what would it matter, I can't find it! I don't know where it is."
Mom: "This is why I always write down where I park...."
Me: "Thanks"

Well ladies and gents, it was on P1 the floor BELOW the restaurant.

And I started packing for Chicago at midnight, have packed 3 pairs of jeans for 2 days and who knows what else and I've also had 4 hours of sleep...THIS should be a great day.

And just because it's 'Foto Friday' and I'm beyond tired:

This is how my dog sleeps...on my bed.