I Don't Give a F*ck

This should be the motto for life, truly. Excuse the language, but I'm enjoying my first evening to myself in at least 9 months and listening to a Wanda Sykes comedy CD one of my girlfriends back home made me. Since we lived in the hostel, I really never had any time to myself---even though we had our own room, there were always people around. Steve's out with one of his little friends tonight and I'm chillin out, enjoying my duty free gin, getting ready to watch Hot Fuzz (gotta love Simon Pegg). There was a time I really missed being single. I love my husband dearly, but once in a while, I'd kill for an evening back in my old apartment in Chicago, listening to some music loudly after work and having a lazy dinner of bread and cheese with a gin & tonic full of olives, that I'd scoop out very unladylike with a long spoon. Perhaps I shouldn't be so bothered that my husband has all his friends around. It gives me an occasional evening to be single again;)