PPD (Post Party Depression)

For the past 3 weeks I've been planning a huge party with one of my roommates and two other friends. The party was this past Saturday night. People showed up. They ate. They drank. They laughed. They danced. They went home. Now I don't know what to do with myself. Literally, for the past month it's been, "Too many people are coming." "Is my hot actor boy going to show up?" "We don't have enough hummus." And now that it's over I'm confused about what the hell to concentrate my energies on. Myself? Interesting option.......buuuuuut, maybe later.

We looked fuckin' fabulous if I do say so myself. I've pasted the picture below to give you an idea of what I looked like. Will evennnnnntually get around to posting a real picture of myself but for now I feel this is a fair comparison.



Last night I got a call from my roommate saying that she thought there was an intruder in our back yard. She got me all freaked out and it was probably just a raccoon getting into the 57 bags of trash from the aforementioned party, but there was the distant memory of "Nightmare on Elm Street" that invaded my rational, conscience thoughts and completely took over.

Before we entered the house, my roommate revealed that she had "911" already typed into her cell phone just in case the scary homeless man tried to attack us. That made me feel better. After searching around and finding nothing but our other roommate's cat, Storm (he so doesn't live up to that name), we decided to let it go and watch "Grey's Anatomy" on TiVo. Amazing how a little Dr. McDreamy can make the scary man in the backyard go away...

My hero...