All The Advil At Duane Reade

I woke up at 4:58 a.m., fully-dressed, in bed, on top of the covers. It was that kind of Friday night.

I just stood here in my bedroom, staring out the window while the coffee maker gurgled over my shoulder, and tried to piece everything together. I don’t think it’ll take you long to see where it started heading south:

6:15 – Left MTV, took subway to 14th Street
6:30 – Began working on Almost Home artwork with Erin
8:00 – Abandoned artwork, went to Coffee Shop
8:01 – Drank first Belvedere martini (olives on side)
8:27 – Drank second Belvedere martini (more olives on the side)
9:04 – Drank Stella
9:47 – Finished Erin’s Stella
10:12 – Walked to subway (told self to slow down, walk straight)
10:31 – Purchased two (2) Healthy Choice frozen dinners, one (1) bag of pretzels, one (1) half-dozen (6) eggs, and one (1) 20 oz. Bass Ale

It gets a bit cloudy once I get home. I know I was crankin’ Sheryl Crow’s ‘If It makes You Happy’ (which is kind of funny). I know I ate dinner (the empty plastic tray is on the floor in the living room). I updated my site a little bit (I posted the album cover, but have since removed it), but wisely stopped journaling (presumably because I couldn’t type). I think I watched ‘The Civil War’ DVD (‘cuz what’s better when wasted then watching a segment on Gettysburg where 50,000 American men killed each other). And I just noticed that I posted a new photo of Ethan that is hil-ar-ious!

Next thing I know, I’m on top of the covers, in bed, fully-dressed, at 4:58 a.m. And the gray matter at the base of my spine is throbbing. And all the Advil at Duane Reade ain’t gonna’ help. It just hurts. And I’m pretty sure it was worth it.