So tomorrow night is a girls' night out. THANK the LORD. My friend Andie and I usually spend an entire week debating venues, eateries, times, clothes, moon cycles, etc. whenever we plan a night out.
We start with a long list of restaurants, winnow it down, winnow it back up, debate, kvetch and then ultimately change our minds at the last minute. I think our record was something like 26 emails to plan one Wednesday happy hour.
This week, though, I just couldn't get into the whole Amy & Andie Listmania '04 thing. My list of options was feeble and my comments were cranky and distracted.
Then Andie read this morning's crazed entry and sent me the following email:
i'm worried about you.
okay tommorrow... i'll meet you at your place after work.. we'll go to spices and from there find a local establishment that specializes in refreshing beverages. how that's okay.. just thought maybe it might help if i make the decisions... know when i'm stressed am so not good at decisions.
How much do I love her? I love her like Homer loves donuts. Hell, I love her like I love donuts.