Hanging out at Annabel's, the wine bar, on a Friday evening, around 9:30. Sitting at the bar, sipping my wine, reading *Urbanite*...a woman stands next to me, orders a drink, asks the price, the bartender says she just missed happy hour.
"That's the story of my life," I pipe up.
I called Cathy earlier, just to check up on her, let he know that I'm thinking of her at the difficult time. Got her voicemail, which somehow was a little harder than actually talking to her, hearing the same message she had when we were dating. Strange things, minds.
And of course now the Valentine's Day advertising blitz. Managed to forget over the past few years how much it sucks to have advertisers rub it in you're face that you're not getting any on V-Day. Feh.