Nothing at all.

So I called out of work on Friday and during the entire course of my weekend I only left the apartment maybe twice. I say twice because the third time I left the apartment was only to walk down to another apartment and supervise my roommate help a friend move in.

So, for three days, I did next to nothing. I didn't see anyone, I didn't call anyone and nobody called me. Well, Kevin called and I called him back, plus my mom called, so I guess there was that. Still though, it was pretty quiet all weekend.

It started when I woke up Friday morning, I felt as if someone had been hammering nails into my jaw all night. This resulted in a mild headache that I could feel becoming worse if I pressed it. I was going to call out anyways and now I had my excuse.

Later a phone call to Kelly turned up that I had probably been grinding my teeth in my sleep. She said during school she used to do the same thing, that it was stress. This was over the phone, I maybe saw her in person for a grand total of six hours all weekend.

Friday we all went out to dinner, Kelly, Dennis and I, then we grabbed some beer from the local liquor store and went home. We decided to watch The Jerk with Steve Martin. Kelly and Dennis had never seen it. It was a good night even if the new phonebooks were not here.

All and all Kelly and I have been seeing less of each other over the course of the last month or two. I think this is a study to find out who each other is without one another. To get reacquainted with ourselves. She wants to go back to school, get into a good regiment at the gym, and is starting to find her own again. We do spend a lot of time together and maybe it's time we relax and figure out direction.

I thought it best to do nothing for a while. I had been exerting myself worrying about things that I had no control over and I could use three days underground. And during the daylight hours, for three days, that's exactly what I did.

I decided to read. I drew the blinds closed. The weather all weekend was nice but that didn't concern me, I was inside, buried in a book and my thoughts. A funny thing about this book I'm reading, I think it's making me crazy. Things all around me have been out of whack as of late. I'm worrying about things I wouldn't normally pay any mind to. I'm conscious of things that I'd normally not think about. Everything has taken this kind of surreal semi-gloss coating. This is how I spent all day Saturday and at 10:00pm I decided I should get out.

Dennis and I decided to forego plans of going to Baltimore. It was a long drive that neither of us felt up to that late in the game. We ended up at a pub in Annapolis. The pub we always go to in Annapolis. Nothing unusual ever happens there.

At this pub the back area is outside and you can sit down, have something to drink and hear yourself speak. Neither of us had eaten and so we got a couple of menus on top of our beer order. It was the same waitress we always have, her name is Amanda. She's nice and is always good to us.

I couldn't shake the feeling that something was different about the night air. Even though it had been a bright, clear day, the evening sky held no stars. Not one.

As we sat there, out back, under the empty sky, we ate and drank. Later a man would come out of the bar, sit down in our vicinity and take off his shirt. He'd move chairs around in a ritualistic manner, finally sitting down by himself to smoke a cigarette.

Later still, on the other side of the wood fence that backed up to the rear of our chairs a man would pee a foot from where Dennis was sitting. This kind of stuff never happens here.

It was after that when we met a man who could run one-hundred and fifty-five miles an hour. He was not joking. A black man, he wore a yellow hat and pants up past where his waist should be. His eyes were constantly looking upwards and every now and again they'd roll around when he got excited about something. He asked us if we thought he was a fool. We replied that he was nobody's fool.

He talked about his 'condition' and about how he knew his place. His lot in life. How someone on the bus had put hands on him and how he was not a violent person but if he was provoked, then you better watch out.

He was mentally handicapped and later we were told that he was a regular, that he would come in three times a week or so, order some food and just talk to people. He was a nice guy but it all just seemed rather odd for a Saturday night. That surreal semi-gloss coating our little world. After all, it's not every day that you meet a man who can run one-hundred and fifty-five miles an hour.

I woke up on Sunday around 9:00am. Dennis and I cooked waffles -- well actually -- Dennis cooked and I ate. He did a new trick with the waffles though. He sprinkled cinnamon on them. Something he'd never done before. They were excellent, the cinnamon brought the maple taste right up to the surface. He'd truly perfected the artform.

After that he went down the street to help his friend Sean move in to the new apartment. Again, I was alone and with my book I spent almost my entire Sunday reading. Every now and again I'd fall asleep and have a dream that someone was chasing me. I'd wake up every time I turned this one corner down an alley. I don't know what was in the alley.

Later I walked down to Sean's to see how things were going. I stole some pizza and helped put together a television stand, after which I went home again.

That night I stayed in and caught the new episode of Family Guy, Dennis was still down the street. I went to bed somewhere around 11:00pm after I had finished a couple more chapters and couldn't hold my eyes open anymore.

This morning it took everything in my power to drag myself to work. I actually contemplated calling out again but I knew that it just wouldn't be in the cards to take that long of a weekend during the busy season.

It's funny how doing nothing can get into your system so quickly that once it's time to actually do something you don't even remember if you know how.