Happy birthday to me. I slept until almost three recuperating from last night's shots, and after showering, I finally made my way out to the New Orleans City Park. I am in love. The weather was gorgeous and the park is friggin' enormous. I had a blast just walking around, looking at people, and watching little kids throw bread at ducks. I will definitely be going back.
Afterwards, on the Roommate's suggestion, I went to Port Of Call for a decent steak and then to Cosimo's for a beer. The place gave an unpleasant vibe - too many people bitching about their jobs - so I left after two. Now, it's The Man From Laramie with Jimmy Stewart playing a hard-ass. All in all, not a bad day.
Don't know how I feel about being 35 and I still have no clue what to do with myself. I told myself once back when things were bad that if I wasn't in a better frame of mind by 35, I'd kill myself. I don't know if I could say for sure if I was in a better frame of mind and, honestly, apart from the pain I know it would cause Momma, Mommaw and Marcus, I can't truthfully say I wouldn't walk off a parking deck if given the whim. But here I am and here I remain, and I'm sure something will come along eventually.
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