I'm sorry if you thought by the title, this was going to be about that really neat MGMT song. It's not.
It's about the idiotic execution of merriment that landed me in hell---all of Saturday.
I stayed up way too late on Friday night after fifteen hours of work. Instead of going to bed, what do I do? I go out and booze it like a prohibition bender hankering for a gin blossom. The thought of even smelling alcohol is making me gag...and today is Monday!
Although I am miserable, as usual in the office, I am much happier now than Saturday.
I woke from about five hours of sleep dehydrated--strike one. I brewed a pot of coffee and wasted it--strike two. I only ate a stale bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch before my 2 o'clock shift--strike three. I didn't shave, so I was reprimanded along with three other guys at work--strike four. I had a killer headache all night--strike five. My stomach was eating itself and making terribly nauseous--strike six. A friend came in to see me at work and sit in my section after I was cut and I was too hung over to hang out after work--strike seven and eight.
There's probably more, but since I suffered brain damage, I can't remember anymore.
Why again do people do this to themselves...? Thank God I'm a grown up and I don't do that anymore...
1 comment:
It all sounds so Hunter S. Thompson / Charles Bukowski. Even your hangovers have a literary edge to them.
I can't believe they reprimanded you for not shaving. You're totally sexy and über-masculine with facial hair.
Then again, maybe they had to include you with the other three guys to be fair, even though they secretly wanted to jump your bones.
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