Panic attacks are fun!

I may be a bit overdramatic sometimes, but I'm not one to have panic attacks. I get angry. I yell, I kick, scream, throw, curse (and apologize), but I NEVER freak out the way I did today in the middle of my workday.

( Oy. )

We went to Bourbon Street. I had intended on this; it's Monday! I left my money at home, though. I was very tired from no sleep last night, and so I thought that five dollars for lunch would be enough. HAH. Anyway, I had my prime rib, FINALLY, and it was good. And I couldn't finish it because I'd filled up on the awesome red pepper, tomato and basil soup. I HAVE to learn how to make that. And then my potatoes and green beans and Bananas Foster. *_*

Dinner lasted a long while, especially because we didn't get our check for ... close to an hour. o_o We kept wondering if dinner was free.

The Yankee game was on as we were eating. He Who Must Not Be Named (I think he has the number 18 on his back) was on base, and the cameras showed him out there. He had stubble. For the not-so-baseball-savvy, HWMNBN left Boston to join the evil, megalomaniacal Dr. Cube Yankees, Boston's ARCHRIVAL. He had to get a haircut and a shave and sell his soul, as well to conform to Georgie Porgie's OMGWTFNOHAIRORSOULS rule. So, then, why was HWMNBN leading off the bag with stubble on his face?! It made me VERY angry. Oh, by the way, Phill. Detroit is better than the Mets. They've got a 52-25 record; the Mets are only 47-28. So HA. They're NOT the best team in baseball (just in the National League, and second in the Majors, but I was right)!

And then I came home. I'm tired, and I hope I'm not allergic to the new soap I bought. Night-o.