It was raining dinosaurs yesterday so Honeybun and I spent most of the day curled up in bed, munching on whatever was available and enjoying Dexter. When the sun set and the rain stopped, however, we were able to leave the house. She had to attend a birthday party and she strangely had the urge to bring ice cream cake for the celebrant. I on the other hand needed to dash to the mall for some online chores since the connection at home is still busted.

When we met back at home, we had some ice cream cake while giggling at the Kapusolympics games. After that, we dozed off to la la land, armed with socks and thick blankets.

I woke up early awhile ago and tried to fix the room. But after pushing some furniture, taking out the trash and organizing files, books and mags, I strangely felt empty, sad and alone. Worse, I didn’t know what was bothering me.

And so I had lunch: some squash and some cheese-stuffed bread. I felt worse. I decided to go to the mall since doing so always cheers me up. I went to Book Sale with the goal of going out with heavy plastic bags full of readables, but there wasn’t any new stuff. I killed time at Starbucks and even an hour spent on reading Real Simple while gorging on cheesecake and coffee (after forever) still didn’t fulfill me. I wanted to get another haircut, a facial and a massage, but decided not to since I was pretty certain they wouldn’t change the way I was feeling.

On my way home, I didn’t find out what the hell my problem was, but I realized something: I was missing my favorite stranger. Once again, I was my old teenager self daydreaming of Star Cinematic chance encounters and coffee and chitchat invitations and sideway glances and half-smiles and elephants playing hopscotch on my chest.

I am now at home and I just want to sleep this off but I can’t. Fuck that coffee.