Saturday's

Why are they so important?

Why do they mean so much?

Last Saturday I was at a bar talking to Canadians at a bachelor party--one of which bought me drinks all night and wanted to makeout with me.

The Saturday before that I went out with some friends I hadn't seen in a long time.

And before that, I went out with my friends to this area that had so many bars filled with people who drank themselves into stupors--kind of like I did the Saturday before that one.

I was dumped. So I drank--a lot I drank. That Saturday was a mess.

But tonight is Saturday and I didn't want to do anything, yet I felt like I should. So I did. I went to a friend's house to drink, but I didn't go out. I felt tipsy, I felt surrounded by friends, but I also felt sad.

He was out. He was happy. And he definitely was probably not sad.

But I was.

It's funny how break ups work--they make you question even the smallest things, like the purpose of Saturday's, ya know?