"He's a big dumb animal, isn't he folks!"

The title of this post is a quote from the movie Tommy Boy, and is my standard saying whenever I do something retarded. My alternate title for this post, also from Tommy Boy, was "Let me tell you why I suck."

I had six hours in the car by myself on Sunday to contemplate each millisecond of Saturday night, and by the time I rolled into the city I was so filled with self-loathing that I didn't know what to do with myself. I ate some dinner then went to bed, hoping a good night's rest would make things seem better.

I got into work around 7am Monday morning feeling as badly for myself as I had when I went to bed. I decided I should write to Dee (you have to get right back on that horse when you fall off). I think I wrote three drafts, they were all complete shit. The first email was an apology for being a jackass. The second draft ignored my buffoonery, and went along like nothing awkward ever happened. The third draft was a mixture of the two. I don't know how, but before I really knew what was happening I had clicked "I Agree" on the 1-800-flowers website sending a dozen red roses to Dee's office with a card that read "I wish I got to see you more often." Moments after sending I had a minor panic attack, what the hell was I doing? I had only sent flowers once before in my life, this was completely out of character for me, what a jerk-off. In case you are wondering, once you buy the roses there is no way to stop the order.