2002-06-21 - 7:01 p.m.

Also, P is back in town for a few weeks. Last night the boyfriend and I went and bought a couch (now let's hope it fits in the freight elevator - oh, man, do I need a list) and then I went to meet P and Brad and Wanda and a few other people for dinner in Chelsea, and before I knew it it was midnight. Although I really wanted to go home and go to bed, P physically picked me up and slung me over his shoulder and carried me across 8th Avenue to a caberet bar, where we cajoled the mediocre piano player into letting Wanda sing with him. She thoroughly outshined him, though, so he was quick to get her back to her table and then I made my exit, got home about 1:15 (far, far too late for me these days) and proceeded to stay up until after 2, because it was the only alone time I'd had all week.

So it's been insane, and I haven't been writing at all, either here or in my paper journal. I think it's because all semblence of a routine is gone, and I'm missing it. My eating habits are frighteningly erratic, too. The first few days of this week I've been living on fruit and cottage cheese and salad and veggies, lots of water and coffee. Food didn't appeal to me, so I just ate light things to appease the physical hunger. Between yesterday and today? McDonalds, 2 Bloody Marys, a slice of pizza and some sesame noodles. Can't be good.

And the boyfriend just called and told me he can't find his credit card. FABULOUS. I swear, sometimes I wonder how he's made it this far, flying by the seat of his pants like he does.

I'm off for the weekend - hopefully I'll get back here on Monday.

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