Well, the weekend found me with little to do, and so when Dizzy asked me and Dave to help her move a couch from her friend's house in Ponchatoula, I jumped at the chance. The couch had been there for over a year, primarily because with the family members that Dizzy got stuck with sheltering after Katrina, there was simply no room in her house for it. The important part of this story, however is that Dizzy treated us all to Jeager's for dinner afterward.
I have never been more dissapointed in my life. Gone are the "so big it's scary" seafood plates. Gone are the hand-drawn menus. Gone is the rustic charm of boiling seafood and tin buckets of beer. (sniff) For those that remember it, the new Jeager's is far more like the short lived "Andrew Jeager's House of Seafood" that operated in the french Quarter a few years ago. It's way more full of itself, and far less relaxed than it should be. (sniff, sniff)
This week, I am in Houston. On business. I don't mind the time to spend in the car driving, but the actual business of a business trip is a little annoying... especially since I'm not sleeping well. I keep having this recurring nightmare that someone I had a falling out with long ago is furious with me, and screaming and crying at me at the same time. I don't think that this person is the type to be like that... but it still wakes me up at night, and won't go away.
I'm a big believer in the whole "collective unconcious" theory that we are all somehow linked in a way that we can't always percieve... part of me genuinely wonders if my Id is picking up on something that I'm not aware of to the point where I was ready to call this person and just ask if they were in fact, pissed off at me.
Then I realized exactly how crazy that sounds. It's probably just my subconcious screwing with me, right?
Good thing I chickened out.