Watching When Harry Met Sally for the 5th time in 2 days. It's acting as a decent distraction (but not TOO distracting). It's also full of false hope - yay for movies (I hope you caught the sarcasm).
Did I mention I stumbled across a letter dated September 9, 2007 this morning? It was all about how I thought you liked me (you complimented my hair and a skirt I was wearing, apparently), and I was incredibly intrigued because you were such a nice, friendly person.
I guess I'm going to bed at midnight. I hope tomorrow goes OK, because right now I'm REALLY not looking forward to it.
I wonder what our lives would be like if I had followed through in September instead of April? Maybe the catastrophe would have been avoided, and we would have ended up perfectly happy. But everybody knows the "if" game is a dangerous game.
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