Tell me about your weekend. No, really.

Went out with a cadre of friends who thought I needed some cheering up (go figure). First bar was dull. Next bar was empty. Third bar was both dull & empty. Friends left.

Moved on to fourth bar by myself, drank myself into a stupor with the help of friendly bartender who seemed very sympathetic to my plight, suddenly discovered the bar was closing, met a guy outside who struck up a conversation, offered me speed, decided to take him up on his offer, spent the next 5 hours talking speed-fuelled jibberish to same guy, drove my trusty rental car by friends house at 9 am, woke up best friend's girlfriend's mom who was visiting for the week, was summarily sent home in a taxi, couldn't sleep for the next two days.

Did it work? Did it get my mind off her? No, not in the slightest.

I guess drugs & drink & depression just don't mix.