Seriously. I knew in my heart of hearts that I was going to have a rough week last week. I was on the tail end of a cycle of self-destructive shennanigans and I needed to really just scrape rock bottom. Friday should very well have been the end of that but it continued into Saturday night. That involved drinking to the point of vomiting (this happened twice in a four day period, mind you)throwing a traffic cone in the street a la Key West, getting kicked out of a tiki bar for hurling a beer bottle at someone's head and breaking the heel off of a pair of beloved boots from Barney's Co-Op that I just got back from the cobblers, then falling and bruising the shit out of my knee, ripping my jeans and ending up on my back in the gutter. Ick. Sunday was as you can well imagine a wash, spent on the couch in a haze. I managed to go to sleep very early Sunday night after eating half a pizza- which I'm glad I was able to gag down due to alcohol poisoning-induced nasuea. Although, I did manage to go to brunch. I was still pretty torn up then. But not so torn up that I was drinking a can of Budweiser wrapped in a paper towel at our 10 am next-day meet up with Angela and Big Dan to re-cap how I decided to take the getting thrown out of bars for the night reins from she and Sara.
But today is a new day. I was up at 9 am and seem to have depleted my supply of various narcotics with the help of a variety of special guest stars. And that is as it should be. Because this is going to be a period of behaving. It is time for behaving myself.
No, you guys I MEAN it this time.
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