Fuck me! I'm turning into a lush.
I worked till 1pm and then came home, claiming illness. I just knew I would. I slept on the couch until 7pm; it was sunny when I pulled the blanket over me, sooo relaxed, so gorgeous, you can't buy that feeling, drifting off with every cell in my body going, yes, yes, yes, ahhhhhhh. It was dark when the ringing phone woke me. My beautiful Mark called to see how I was. My soulmate forever.
My mate Jill called not long after and we went to The Union for dinner, where we polished of a bottle of red. The bar chick was noticeably annoyed when we changed our minds from glasses of red to a bottle, after she had poured them. What happened to the customer always being right?
We polished off two bottles as we bitched about work. Fucken law firms! Fucken advertising agencies!
Now I'm sloshed and banging into walls. No, literally. I just went to the toilet and I walked into the wall. LOL.
I'm going to bed. Hick! I should just take up smoking again, before I have an alcohol problem. Hick!
A pill problem would be preferred though, much more glamorous, don't you think? Oh, I long for no conscience and a drug problem - although, I'm certainly not one for that toothless smile, sunken eyes or idiot grin - not a fucking care, it does seem enticing!
2 comments:
Is your toilet still standing? If by some magic - not red wine though - you managed to walk into the wall, it cannot be standing yet. But onto the wall, oh yes, that happens a lot whenever one polishes off a bottle too many...
Have a good night sleep and let memories rest for a while. They do deserve it too, you know?
I have a drug problem. The problem being that I can't afford enough drugs.
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