"Booze is the answer. I forget the question."
My head was pounding loud enough to wake me from my coma.
I reluctantly opened my eyes and saw a blurry rendition of my ceiling. My bedroom was on a slight spinning curve and I wanted off the ride, damn it. Although, the clock in my phone translated that I had to be to work in 30 minutes, I was flummoxed how I had even gotten home.
I was still wearing last night’s outfit. A dress that was now cupping my booty cheeks and my four-inch stilettos, one dangling from my ankle. I stood up and wobbled to the bathroom.
Glancing in the mirror, I recognized nothing because of the dark make-up that was smeared all over my face.
And wtf was that smell?
I looked closer to find some crusty chunks of barf mixed in with my mangled hair. Gross. I moaned and put the toilet seat down before sitting to try and collect my thoughts.
“Well, at least I woke up solo in my own bed,” I thought to myself…
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Episode I: Diary of A Dipsomaniac...
Whipped up by MsFreshBananaPuddin at 1:58 PM
Labels: alcohol, dipsomania, hangover
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
sounds like my Saturday mornings. except for the "dresses cupping my booty" and the stilettos. are you sure we aren't separated at birth?
Post a Comment