"You know a lot of people go to college for seven years." "I know, they're called doctors."

I officially suck at this. I apologize. Things would probably go a lot better if I had a computer and internet access at home. Maybe I should really look into the "Sugar Momma (or Sugar Daddy)" program.

OK, so I have been sick lately, which has been a contributing factor, and also slammed at work, as per usual. But I'm going to try and add new content again.

I am getting old. I hate it. I hate it with every fiber of my very being. I fight it as much as I possibly can, which usually just leads to more reminders of how old I am.
For example: a few weeks back I was out at my friendly neighborhood bar, Dos Primos, having a few cocktails. A friend of mine comes over to the table and tells me I need to sit at his table. Thinking that I like the one I'm at, I ask "Why?" He tells me to just come over and sit. I do so and realize exactly what's going on. He's trying to set me up. ***Now, I am in the process of trying to cultivate a relationship with the now girlfriend at this point, but I found this somewhat amusing (as this never happens to me) and wanted to see where this was going*** So I begin to talk with the girl and am immediately reminded of how fucking old I truly am in the first actual question she asks: "So what year are you?" I begin to laugh and then calculate the years and semesters that have passed since I started. "My 9th year" I reply. She got a very bewildered look on her face to say the very least. So I had to inform her that I had already graduated and was working for the school before she could ask why and old man like myself was still hanging around Statesboro and think that I was some creepy letch.

So there's just one example of my constant reminders that I am indeed getting old. That and I get to add some content for you.

D