Thursday,
February 19, 2004
Sometimes, you just need a drink
The lovely and talented MacBethI, a fellow writer, asked me recently if I had an Atkins cheat day planned so that we could indulge in Mojitos. To be perfectly honest, I'm indulging in a glass of Malibu Rum and Diet Coke with Lime right now (well, two, to be honest), because this has been an absolute godawful piss-cutter of a week. Between the insomnia, the work load and the lack of down time, I was trembling with exhaustion at my desk this morning, on the verge of saying something inadvisable, and momentarily considered passing out (and discarded it because we still don't have our med insurance cards, which would have made a visit to the ER somewhat problematic).
On the good side, I did good things at work today so Marketing likes me, Engineering likes me and my manager seems pleased with me, so I may hope that I remain in good odor with the Powers That Be. And on the way home, I stopped off at a Centennial Liquors and picked up the medium-sized bottle of Malibu (the large one entranced me, but it took us a year to kill a mid-sized bottle, so the pocketbook won over the greedy eyes), which has rendered me in a fit state (I hope, anyway) to fall into bed and actually sleep through the dreaded midnight hour, where I have wakened whether I wanted to or not for the past week or so and watched in helpless despair while sleep slipped into the darkling deep and evaded me for the rest of the night.
Oooh, that was pretty.
In other words, my darling dear ones, I'm loaded to the gills and can no longer feel my lips, so I think I shall sashay off to the boudoir and lay my head down in search of Morpheus (if he can be persuaded that Neo can take care of himself, big overprotective lug that he is) and the blessings of deep, restful sleep, tra la. And it says something that even in my deeply inebriated state, I can still type and spell correctly, and use appropriate HTML tags.
Go me!