Friday. C's birthday. I don't want to go, I say 5,000X. I don't know anyone. I won't have fun.
Of course I have fun, because alcohol is a social lubricant, and my favorite drug. And a girl from work shows up so I have someone to talk to, and the boy who I've drunkenly made out with before is there and giving me attention and that, with the alcohol, is making him a whole lot cuter.
Is he really a good kisser, or was that the late hour and the alcohol? Who knows. I still have a memory of the old one floating around, though....kind of kills the kissing buzz. (Unfair.)
I never get hangovers (I remember ever getting one in college), and I wasn't bad this morning, but not good. Was so glad I didn't have work. Didn't eat anything til 2. Took a 3.5-hour nap. (Lazy! Sloth! Whatever! It was my day off!)
Saturday. K. makes me dinner. Mac-and-cheese, mashed potatoes, lemon chicken, veggies and crab-stuffed mushrooms. (Sorry, gents, she's taken.) (I am so blessed.) I did bring the wine. I'm not a total mooch.
Pick up N. and go for a drink. We're both tired. The liquid poison feels good. Maybe I did drink way too much last night, if some hair-of-the-dog is soothing at 10pm.
Another weekend. Work tomorrow. It was a nice two days off.