Busy as fuck.

Okay, so that's really a big fat lie. I've been busy getting busy with someone, chillin', and probably smoking way too much in both interpretations of the word. Woked and boked right before having to bake-bake at work, which got me through the day where everyone came in to work in a totally crappy mood from hangovers.

The dog is good, and she's only been home a week. Fucking scared as shit when we first brought her home, where she would do nothing but hide in her crate, eat when we weren't looking, and would pee on the floor and refuse to go for a walk. She's chilled out a lot, though--licks my face, wags her tail, rolls over for belly rubs, goes for walks (although she still doesn't leave her crate while in the house). She's a total chick and dick magnet, though. Everyone notices her before they even notice me. Good deal.

Spent the past week hanging out with travel kids left and right, and listening to an amazing tramp band play. Have been given a lot of things to think about--one being to hitch up north to visit my ex once my lease ends, then head back to Cali via the same mode of transportation. Adventure. Excitement.

My hook-up is gone, presumably left some time this morning. Fantastic!

St. Paddy's was a fucking joke. I spent the morning chilling and walking the Hyenadog, and work was so slow and boring with nothing to drink that we ended up smoking a bowl out back. BORING. I suppose I could have gone out afterwards, but I wasn't feeling the love and just wanted to do laundry and shit.

Speaking of work and laundry...