Not waiting on a lady

Yesterday was Valentine's Day, and I even had plans. It wasn't a date; it was beer and tacos with a friend. But beer and tacos and friends are like the best things in the world (ok, tacos in Barcelona may not be the best things in the world, actually, but let's not get picky) -- I was feeling pretty fortunate. Except that I guess I ate something bad and then my stomach tried to kill me in retaliation and I ended up watching The Texas Chainsaw Massacre on YouTube alone in the dark. And it started pouring rain right after I hung a load of laundry out to dry. So, fuck you St. Valentine.

On the bright side, I mostly feel better today. On the even brighter side, I don't live in Poblenou. Poblenou is where I lived when I lived here before and where I wanted to live again this time around but it didn't work out that way. (It's closeish to work and closeish to the beach without being touristy and it has good abandoned warehouses, etc.) If it had worked out, I might be one of many people without hot water for the fifth day in a row, because some kind of gas line got cut and everyone associated with that gas line is blaming someone else for cutting it and it's not getting fixed and holy crap I would be grumpy if I were hot water-less for five days. I'll take a night of intestinal distress over that any day.