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2003-09-02 - 10:20 p.m.

I've got an acute case of end-of-the-summer-blues. . . and I mean bad.

On Sunday we packed up the house for the end of our rental season and headed home early because we had tickets for the US Open on Labor Day.

Since there was a full fifteen minutes of tennis play in one stadium (not the one I was in) technically there should be no refund but the kind folks of the USTA have decided to allow us to either come to another session this week (Um...still raining) or mail them in for tickets to next year's Open.

Sitting in the rain for four and a half hours gives you plenty of time to think . . . bitch really. . . about all the things you could've done instead, like stayed warm and dry in bed for one but its useless to dwell on such things.

So instead I got into a ridiculous argument with B about nothing in particular (you know, just to pass the time).

I insisted he apologize, he refused, I faked punching him in the face and told him that sometimes I just can't stand him, hate him even. (Yeah, like you're so much more mature when you're having a stupid fight)

I made him dinner to prove that I was the bigger person, a fact that was clearly shown in the way that I unceremoniously threw the paper plate bearing two cheeseburgers and the bottle of ketchup at him. Then I stayed in the bedroom eating cold cuts and watching Sex in the City.

We didn't speak until this evening when I came home and found that he had cleaned the entire apartment (one of the stupid things we fought about).

I think we know who won this time.

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