Summer (Not) In The City

Saturday I’m heading to the coast for a week. It’s fucking hot and I can’t stand being in the city anymore. Beach, beer, the Euro on some bar’s TV. That’s the plan.

The laptop situation is probably not happening, so this place is going dark for seven days. I’m okay with that. Internet break sounds right.

While you’re all stuck at work or school sweating through your clothes, I’ll be on the sand with cold beer, staring at girls walking by and doing absolutely nothing about it. It’s hopeless, but Catholic guilt is stronger than motivation could ever be. The beach wins.

Only real bummer is missing the Euro party at the office—that one I would’ve actually shown up for. Can’t have both. You pick one.

Going to stock up on cold drinks, and then I’m apparently watching TopModel with Mandy. I’ll turn it off after five minutes. Might as well try.