Early Friday afternoon I found myself missing my dad. A little more than usual, I mean. I was sitting in my Monte Carlo at the car wash, so that probably had something to do with it. The next thing I knew I was shivering at his gravesite.

Then to continue down nostalgia's trail I went to this Hitching Post bar in Louisville. It was Dad's hangout in New Albany. I try to go in there each year, on the anniversary of his death, and have a Falls City beer to his memory. Well, they don't make Falls City anymore, but they do still make Budweiser (24), and it's pretty much the same thing.

After a while, the bartender recognized Dad's old Monte Carlo parked out front, and so he figured out who I was. Next thing I knew there were three or four people in there talking about Dad, and they all had very good things to say. So that was nice.

Then this lady and her hot daughter came in and sat with me for a while. The mom said she'd met me before. I didn't remember it. The daughter kept making goo-goo eyes at me, and we made half-assed plans to go out sometime. I doubt that will ever happen but, just in case, I've dubbed her GooGooGirl.

The first thing we were going to do had maybe a zillion-to-one chance against it. But we were going to do it. As of late Wednesday night, we were going to do the first thing, and I think we were excited about it.

The first thing got cancelled Thursday morning. I was very disappointed.

The second thing we were going to do had perhaps a million-to-one chance against it. But we were all set. It was going to happen. After the first thing, we were going do the second thing.

The second thing never happened, either. I was disappointed.

The third thing, well the odds against the third thing were incalculable. It, of course, didn't happen except in my head.

The fourth thing, we got to do. It was nice. So it ended up being a good Thanksgiving.

I think I'm supposed to write something now. What, exactly, I'm not sure.

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I had a very good evening.

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I'm sober, but I'm not really sure how I managed it. I had a Newcastle (11787) at lunch, then a Schlenkerla Marzen (6592) before dinner, then three bottles of Barley Island Barfly (286) and a bottle of Barley Island Dirty Helen (484). I should be shitfaced, but I'm perfectly fine. Weird.

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As I was driving home tonight, I saw a very bright shooting star, and I gave my wish to LaptopGirl. I hope she uses it wisely.

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Today I had lunch with HatGirl.

HatGirl!

Yay!

She's such a good person. One of the best.

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Sometimes I wish things weren't so lopsided. Because then I'd not only know exactly what to do, I'd actually be able to do it without it being weird.

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There's been this hole in my soul for a long time. During times like tonight, when that hole is filled, I feel like a real person for a while. And then there was another hole. One I didn't even know about, and a little kid snuck right in and filled that hole like it was never even there.

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Sometimes I can imagine myself being happy. It's nice, when I can do that.

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I think I'm tired. I won't know for sure, though, until I go to bed. I guess I'll try that now. Long day tomorrow.

They were all wrong. All day and all night, the world seemed out of tune or something.

I've been accused, several times, of overthinking things. I can't really dispute that, but at least I do think. Willy-nilly may be fine and dandy for some people and some circumstances, but not for me, and not when people much more important than me are involved.

Do what you're here to do, then get the fuck out.

That's what the vibes told me, and so that's exactly what I did.

Okay, so I think I'm starting to get a handle on what's bothering me.

Maybe I'll even write about it later, after a couple of beers.

Or maybe not.

I'm in a fairly strange mood this morning. Strangeness brought on in part, no doubt, by an almost total lack of sleep last night.

I feel like I'm waiting for something, but I can't figure out if I'm anticipating it or dreading it. Oh, and I also don't know exactly what it is.

Happy birthday to LaptopGirl!

Yay!

I'm so glad you were born, you sweet, sweet girl. The world is a much better place because you're in it. And I'm a much better person because of you. I think I'm a person, period, because of you.

Sleep continues to be a serious problem for me. Ever since July 19th, I bet I've averaged three or four hours a night. But it's a weird problem. It's not regular insomnia, where I just can't get to sleep. Nope, it's that I can't get back to sleep. I mean, I fall asleep pretty easily, most of the time, but then what happens is that I wake up drowning, and then I can't get back to sleep.

That happened again this morning. Went to bed at 1:00, had a really nice dream, and woke up drowning in reality at 4:30. And I'm still up, of course. Thinking about what a bad week it's been. One of the worst I've ever had, I think. The problem with the highs is that they make the lows so much worse. Sometimes I just want things to flatten-out for a while, but I don't expect that to happen. I'm addicted to the highs, after all.

Now people are starting to get concerned about me. I can't really blame them. I see what this is doing to me. I see it every time I look in the mirror. I feel it every time I wake up in the middle of the night, drowning in reality.

I keep telling myself that I need to be strong for a little while longer. That I just need to be a little more patient. But those lies are losing their effect on me. So I tell myself that my near-constant sadness is worth it, because I'm so incredibly happy every now and then. I know this to be true, when I'm able to look at my life objectively. Problem is that objectivity is a fleeting thing for me lately.

I need to try to go back to sleep. Maybe I'll continue the nice dream I had earlier tonight. Maybe I'll have a good day. Maybe reality will change. Maybe my patience will pay off.