Ups, downs, strikes and gutters, this weekend had them all. I suppose the easiest way to judge the overall quality of a weekend is to take a look back and then see how you really feel come Sunday night- which it is- and I gotta tell you. I'm not smiling right now.

Friday began with me almost getting hit by a car. That was awesome by the way. I was walking across the street, against the light as usual, when I realized that I was seconds away from becoming another spot on the pavement. This green pick up truck was hauling ass toward me. I lived. I thought about how I had lived and shrugged. Shouldn't I have felt something more about that? Shouldn't I have felt something?

I got a D on my technology quiz.

I scored an amazing batch of drugs and seeing it broken up and wonderful in my little jar I wished for a dick so that I could fuck it it was so pretty.

I saw a 19 year old Jimmy Buffet loving son of a bitch walking around a house not his own in boxerbriefs at 2am. There were also fireworks and lots of drugs including a hookah, multiple pipes, bongs, joints, kegs, blunts, moonshine and Sparks.

I ate red meat this weekend as predicted. My last ever. Corned beef and cabbage for St. Patty's Day. No more unfinished business. This ghost can cross over now.

I smoked this weekend into the ground and sitting here sobering up I'm trying to actually think about how much of it I actually spent sober... And I gotta tell you the numbers I'm coming up with make me want to go smoke more.

I have a biology test on Tuesday. I may not show it but I'm already freaking out about it as I probably should be. I should study but I choose the healthier response to stress. Running away and hiding from my problems.

I have never felt so stuck in the suburbs in my entire life. Week after week. There's not much to look forward to anymore. Take a sledge hammer to my skull. Drag a razor across my neck. I don't want to see tomorrow.