As I lay in bed typing this, I realize the only time I write is when I have fresh writing material. Fresh writing material only happens when something significant happens- this means, that most of the time, when I write, It's because I did something catastrophic or my life is in some catastrophic state. What a sad fact...
Today, as I write, I am hungover as fuck. I'm talking, vomiting up water, pounding headache in my temples that advil can't stop, and probably running a fever of like 102 as my little, abused body tries to process the liter of vodka I ingested last night.
I thought these days were done. I thought I was done drinking forever. However, after being sick all week and not even leaving my house for three days straight, I was going stir-crazy. This meant that by yesterday evening, when my cold symptoms had subsided enough that I didn't feel like death, I NEEDED to go out. A person goes crazy when they don't leave their apartment in three whole days. I think I left just once on Friday to go to the doctor which is literally a 1 minute walk down the block.
Anyhow, I digress. I am fifty (50) shades of orange thanks to Hampton Sun, so I have that contributing to my status of first degree mess. I felt like such shit from being sick and hardly moving, that I thought a nice, faux tan might boost my spirits... WRONG. I look like a fucking Oompa Loompa right now. My stomach is orange, my feet are spotty and just look like I was running barefoot through orange dirt. Last night, before I decided I was going to go out, I contemplated sitting home and making Bolognese sauce. Today, I wish that I had stayed home alone all night and cooked. Did I mention that it feels like someone is hammering my head right now?
I was almost assaulted by a cab driver. I lost both my debit card and my ID somehow; which, in 10 years of drinking, I HAVE NEVER DONE, no matter how black out drunk I've been. I'm not really sure how last night, of all nights, I managed to lose both. But I feel like a total failure right now. I already called to cancel my debit card, but the bar I was at is not open yet, so I have no clue if they have my ID. See? This is why I prefer to just stick to drugs and stay close to home when I want to have fun. Drugs have never done me dirty like this.
Oh yes, the Bolognese.... I knew I was going somewhere with that. Anyhow, because I decided NOT to stay home and make Bolognese, I didn't go to the grocery store. This means that presently, the only things in my fridge are some Frank's hot sauce, other assorted condiments, two eggs, some carrots and celery, and some foul, hard Gorgonzola that smells like sh*t. Yeah- I'm not sugar coating anything right now.
I feel so vulnerable and sick right now that it's comical. My hands are shaking.... I feel like death. I checked my phone log to see who I called..... I should be put in jail.
Anyhow, my friend put me in a cab last night, which I have no recollection of. When I arrived near home and went to pay, I realized my debit card was missing. Not thinking yet in my drunken state that I should use my credit card, I freaked out that my debit card was missing and told the cab driver I couldn't pay him. I was a fucking mess and crying at that point, and he basically held me hostage in the cab, parked on Bedford Ave for 20 minutes, like interrogating me.... "well how do you plan to pay if your card is not with you?" etc. I think at one point he threatened to drive me to the police. I'm not even lying. I can't believe that this was me last night. These things DO NOT happen to me. What the fuck?! Anyhow, after 20 minutes of sitting in the back of the cab with this douchebag not helping me out at all, it dawned on me that I could use my credit card, and ended up doing so. My life is a fucking disaster.
When I woke up today, I remembered my debit card was missing, but then as I checked my wallet, I also realized my ID was missing. Like, why the fuck would I have even taken my ID out of the plastic casing? Where the fuck did my ID go?
I checked my phone to see who I called.... shameful. The call log had like 10 missed phone calls and facetimes, and then 10 more placed facetimes and phone calls. I pray to God that I did not actually spend anytime on facetime since I was undoubtedly a disgusting, drunken mess.
I never know how it gets to this point. This is why I try to avoid alcohol at all costs. Drugs never do me dirty like this. I don't get hungover from drugs. I don't lose important shit when I'm high. I don't even have any half and half for my coffee right now.... FML. How am I supposed to feel better when I have to drink black coffee? And now I have to go vomit again....
So here I am, fifty shades of orange, eating frozen blueberries in a desperate attempt to feel better, and wondering how a person replaces an ID....
