Well, here we are, 8 p.m. on a Saturday night and I have been up and out of bed for a good five and half hours now. Still a little headache-y and more than a little tired. Why, you ask? Well, remember about Vodka? I was honest from the get-go and admitted we might be caught in an on-again off-again romance akin to that of Carrie and Big's. If you don't know who they are, please for the love of God, join the new millenium and watch a little Sex and the City. Anyway, point being, last night I was with her.
Now don't get me wrong, in the name of honesty, there were a couple of other smaller indiscretions in the last month or so, but they ended well. She got me again. She knew, knew I had grown tired of her ways and so when I could no longer resist and imbibed, she treated me like a real lady. We had a great time and the next day I was none the worse for wear. Then that backstabbing little bitch had the last laugh.
Cut to last night. Last night was a good time. Had all kinds of fun. We even sang again and that hadn't happened for quite some time. She was in fine form, let me tell you and so was I.
Cut to this morning. OmifuckingodIthinkI'mgoingtodieandwhatthefuckisthematterwiththesunanyway?! These were just a few of the thoughts that coursed through my brain when I attempted to open my eyes this morning. So so so so so much pain. Ow ow ow ow ow. Knife in my head. It was ugly. Then remember about all kids I have? Remember how one is two and crapped his pants at McDonald's a couple of weeks ago? Well said two year old child of mine chose this very morning to crap his pants again, in his room and leave it on the floor. Now I don't know how much you all know about hangovers but this is not good. No, I did not vomit. Thanks for asking. No, eventually I carried my bedraggled dehydrated nauseated ass downstairs and laid on the couch for awhile. I even braved some soup. Then at 12:30 p.m. I decided it was best to nap because speak of the devil, we were going back to McDonald's for a birthday party at 3:30 p.m. Yep, it just keeps geting better. Because I don't know about you, but me, I love nothing more than the thought of McDonald's Play Land on a sunny Saturday afternoon with a bunch of toddlers. Especially when hungover! Yippee!
So I had my nap, got up and removed the seven pounds of mascara from undermeath my eyes and showered and carried on with my day. I ate almost two cheeseburgers and some fries and downed a litre of Sprite. Felt slightly better. Then, then it was time to go home. Now if you've been following along you know I live in a town where seniors reign supreme and no one ever gets real excited about driving much more than 40 km/h on a good day. Today was not a good day. Today my body said, hey Vodka was here, oh look she left a note, let me see what it says, oh yep, here it is: 'Make this dumb bitch pay for thinking she could so easily enjoy my company without paying a dear price'. Hence my body rejecting McDonald's with a ferocity previously unmatched.
Bottomline is, she got me. Again. And likely not for the last time...I need to go lie down.