Last night I celebrated bachelorhood by smoking (forbidden by the gf), drinking almost an entire bottle of white wine that was sitting in the fridge, watching episodes of MONK on hulu, then drunkenly listening to my ipod in bed. I also slept diagonally for about half the night. Rock'n'Roll! Man, once you turn thirty, there's no turning back.
My g.f. was gone for two weeks earlier in the summer, so this week has less zip than my other 2 bachelor weeks, which were devoted to watching season 2 of The Wire and eating rotisserie chicken (she's a vegetarian). Now that I'm so broke that I'm just smoking out of boredom and drinking leftover wine, it's starting to approximate the true, sad habits of my natural bachelor self. But it will all be over soon. I always spend the last day and a half working really hard to make the apt. at least look as decent as it did when she left, and try to hide the utter slobbitude that I allow to settle on our home.
