what more do i really need to say?

i’m drunk, but not so drunk that i can’t type anymore. so fuck you, everything else. you can take a hike.

ten minutes to eight in the morning and i am already off work.

hello interwebz. i haven’t taken my speed today, so i am not thinking in straight lines. still, i feel like saying hi.

i woke up hung over this morning. my gins and tonic last night glowed under the blacklight, and made me glow with intoxicated happiness. i was chatty and smiling. cute and bubbly, as carol’s co-worker put it. and i looked good. boy, you should have seen me. little black dress, big black boots. makeup, earrings, choker. attention to detail. the insecure little girl that wants to hide under a paper bag was still around, whispering that i had no business feeling as good as i did, or taking any pride in my appearance. but it was just a whisper, and it wasn’t loud enough to keep me from holding my head high. my hangover was gone by noon.

so, i want more. more great company. more alcohol in perfect quantities. more attention to detail, and nights out on the town. and i’ll have it.