Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Shrimpies Are Tasty

So tonight we went for dinner at Red Lobster. This is one of a series of birthday dinners with various members of my family (after birthday week is over I will tell everything I got and ate, etc.).

We walked in and sat down for a few minutes while they got us a table. While we were sitting there, another man across from us PUT HIS FEET ON THE TABLE. IN A RESTAURANT. Ugh.

Then, we were seated in one of those little alcoves that are really echoey. We were also seated to two different tables with SCREAMING BABIES.

Pet peeve: If your child is too young to behave and be quiet at a nice restaurant, LEAVE THE LITTLE BUGGER HOME WITH A FREAKING BABYSITTER.

So I asked to be moved (I actually can't believe I had the guts to do that!). Apparently if you ask for something early on the manager will make sure to come take special care of you and make sure you get everything you want. Awesome.

So once we were seated in a quieter place and got our food it was wonderful and relaxing and I had three kinds of shrimp.

I had been having a really bad day because I missed some meds TWICE last week and my body is still trying to balance itself again, so even though everything at work went perfectly smoothly and I had a great day, I just got home after work and felt...well, I couldn't really figure out how I felt. I felt sad, but content, but tired, but restless. I felt like I was craving something, but it wasn't food or sleep or something to do...I wanted to get out of the house and do something but at the same time I just wanted to veg in front of the TV (I'm loving Stargate all over again). I hate when I feel like this because I feel like no matter what I do I will still feel unsettled.

So, when Scott got home we decided to go out and run a bunch of errands before getting dinner and once we were out and about and getting things done I felt a bit better, and at dinner I had a daquiri so I felt a little more relaxed and hopefully tonight I will sleep better and tomorrow maybe my brain chemicals will decide to behave. Maybe.

Either way, WHO PUTS THEIR FEET ON THE TABLE AT A RESTAURANT?

It was a grown man, for crying out loud.

Gross.

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