Ow. That was my eye.

Oh, christ, I'm so exhausted right now.

Common sense says, "Go to bed." But for some reason, the last 30 hours have just been so tiring. I look at my face in the mirror and I just feel old. Used. Done.

Not that I am, of course. But there's a point where you realize that things are hitting you and taking direct aim at things you thought long since healed. Wounds that are still tender. Sensitivities that you thought you had built enough walls around. And they're never enough.

Everything always comes back.

Tonight was fun, but drained the world from me. Went to some weird little dive basement club in the Market with some friends, had a fantastic time... until I was suddenly so tired I could barely stand.

During the evening -- during an not-so-unexpected bout of horseplay (over money -- I was trying to pay for drinks and a certain friend was having none of it), my friend jabbed me in the eye. (She claims she was aiming for my hat. Ha.)

Instinct prevailed and suddenly I was standing in the middle of the club, my eye tearing and throbbing. My contact resting precariously in my hand, when it should have been safely in my eye.

Fortunately, my first thought was to fix my vision, instead of my usual response of "Inflict pain. Immediately. Make sure it is expontentially more painful than what you experienced."

Now my eye is lightly throbbing. Contact returned (though painfully -- seems water is not an acceptable replacement for saline solution).

The moral of the story -- if someone really wants to pay for the round of drinks... well, hell. Just let them.