Procrastination has its upsides

Sunday night: the time of regrets and reflection. You know when you finally sit down after like, a huge weekend and think, well,actually, shit, I haven't done anything I actually set out to do. But what the hell. I did a truckload of other random crap instead. And life goes on. It's all good. Par example, I started out my weekend with my Friday night hope post. Strange, now that I look back on it. I think I was kind of tripping out. On Saturday I got up at nine o'clock (on a saturday morning! Sacrilege! Blame Sazzle - she wanted to leave early, so we all had to get up. Don't you hate that?) to catch a tram for 40mins out to a warehouse sale in Brunswick. Retro. In true RJ fashion, I bought a pile of junk that seemed like a good idea at the time... but has since crashed and burned like the aftermath of a really good party. The three of us then returned to the city - Sazzle, CC and yours truly. The gay marriage rited rally was on, so what the hell? Why not join in? I think Sazzle could give us several reasons to that effect, but we were on a roll, so I spent a large part of my Saturday surrounded by men in wedding dresses, Priscilla Queen of the Desert wannabes and men whose vocal cords have never adapted past puberty. Fun times. Ate altogether too much pizza and ice cream, relearnt how to ice-skate (badly) at Docklands - and paid the price with severely bruised knees today - and ended up in CCs room til the wee hours of the morning, lights off, tripping out on obscure basement punk and random Scottish rock. My idea of an effin good day, actually.
Of course, after that, my Sunday was bound to be a dud - you know, the balance of karma and all. And I have a maths test tomorrow - which I haven't studied for (please, God, don't let Mr Neeson be reading this). I'm counting on maths not having any place in my future, because otherwise, Sweet Jesus I am fucked.
I do have a really cool photo collection on my wall though - the side effect of a day's worth of procrastination.