Arrrrrrrgh!

I can't believe this. All I had to do was take the L train to Union Square and get there by 11:15 am. But does the MTA want to let me? No. Sure, I was running late already, but the L station was packed with people waiting for that Manhattan bound train. I waited for twenty minutes before I finally gave up. I think it's an MTA conspiracy to keep the young Williamsburg crowd from going to the rally. If only I had been staying at my own house, I'm sure I wouldn't have had any problem with the N train coming. I am never housesitting again. There really are no benefits besides cable. Now, instead of being in midtown with (I hope) thousands of people, helping to demonstrate a presence of people who want peace, I'm stuck in fucking Greenpoint, blogging my rage. If I weren't a pacifist, I'd hit something.

The worst part is that I left a friend of mine sitting in a coffee shop, waiting for me, with no idea where I was, because my phone died. I seriously don't deserve to have friends. I ended up coming back to the house rather than just waiting for the train, because I had to call her. I felt so awful!

And why all this tragedy? What could have averted this? I'd say I probably would have been able to charge my phone and get up earlier and gotten there, if I hadn't been out drinking until 4 am. Those of you who buy me drinks, and you know who you are, just stop it. I can't take it anymore. I have no will power. I mean, come on, I smoked at least 35 cigarettes last night. What's that about? Maybe I should start going out for happy hour during the week more so I don't feel the need to run myself ragged on the weekends. Learn some moderation.

Anyway, that's my story. I'm sad because I fucked up and now I can't do the one thing I really want to do. Bad Alexia.