OK, so I had a lot to drink on Friday. I was nervous. I was around new people. I was dancing. I was having a good time. Too good of time. It’s like the brakes on my liver are shot. I just slid on past the “caution: slow down” sign and slid right into “you’re acting like a fool and you look a mess.” When you hit this wall, you really shouldn’t talk to people you know, especially people you are trying to get to know.
For example, instead of saying, “Hello, it’s great to see you,” I probably slurred four times in a row, “Are you really here? Is this you? Are you my mother? Are you there, God, it’s me, Margaret.”
And instead of saying, “Wow, I think I’ve had too much. I’m going to call a taxi and call it a night,” I said, “Let’s go to another bar!!!! It’s only 3 a.m.!”
My head still hurts. Regrets are piercing.
0 thoughts on “Recipe for disaster”
regret seems to be a common theme among your postings
Well, regret is a side effect of drinking, don’t you agree? You either say too much, start a fight with a friend, sleep with a stranger or drunk dial an ex. And you thought hangovers were your only punishment.
i think you’re being too hard on yourself. using drinks as social currency is perfectly acceptable…just as long as you’re not being mean to people. party on wayne.