Or at least I pretended to be Sunday evening.
I was having a pretty decent weekend. Sleeping in, Amanda making breakfast, watching the Angels (even if it was them losing), going to Ben&Jerry's for free ice cream, checking out the Bass Pro Shop (holy hell, going to have to have a seperate blog entry for that alone!), great dinners, made my own blue cheese butter with Stilton, it was going great.
And then I realized that I have left my cell phone, a Motorola Razr, in my pants. Said pants had, by this time, gone through the wash cycle and were now thumping around in the dryer.
We are broke until the first and I just ruined a several hundred dollar phone because I frickin' forget to take it out of my shorts pocket.
I don't know what it worse, the feeling of being a goddamn moron, the feeling of being unconnected (first time without my phone in something like 10 years), or the feeling of knowing I'm going to have spend money we don't really have to just throw around.
Not cool.
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