So, I totally wasted today.

Was supposed to go visit a sculptor (I think... some sort of artist, anyway) down by the Naviglio. Blew it off in favor of making enchiladas, watching three episodes of Caroline in the City back to back, one movie (What Women Want), and taking a nap.

Had big plans for the day, too. Aside from the artist thing, I planned to write, do some laundry and general cleaning, stuff like that.

Instead, I laid around all day feeling like a complete shit because (1) I went to the opera with Nigel last night (W loathes opera) and stayed out wa-a-ay too late (2) I should have stuck to just coffee, instead of having a grand marinier with it (because that's what my Dallas opera buddy and I used to have post-opera and I was feeling nostalgic), and (3) because I didn't call W to tell him we were going to the Trattoir afterwards and he got worried about me leading, eventually, to a big old fight.

It's the last one, actually, that was the real problem.

I did think that he was asleep-- he was really tired when I left because Monday was a monster long day, and it was 12:30 by the time we got back downtown.

Still should have called.

I mean, I get really angry with him when he does it to me because I worry. And I don't like feeling like I don't matter enough to merit one lousy phone call, even though I know that I do. I should have called.

I called him at work today to apologize again. And I just threw in a load of laundry to assuage my guilt. Out of time for the other stuff, though. I don't have time to do much else, though, since I have to meet W and some of our friends for a going-away dinner.

W says he's forgiven me. I still feel like a shit, though.

I'm so sorry Baby.

Will write about the opera tomorrow. It really deserves an entry of its own any way.