There are 56 days in 8 weeks, right? (seven-day weeks times eight, yeah...shut up, I still count on my fingers, and that's...okay)
I'm going to count down from 56, because starting from "1" feels daunting. Starting from 56 props me up with aromas of mastery yet to come.
So, 56 was tuesday. I started this blog, actually shared it with another live human being, then drank some brandy for my sore throat, then some more brandy. I don't actually posess any brandy of my own, mind you, I pilfered it from my baby-daddy's shelf at our former residence (it's been about 5 months living apart now, and no, I haven't been boozing it up at all to handle the transition stress, noooo, not me ;). After baby-daddy came home from work (killer late that day, it happens...), we gathered up a bunch of laundry for me to take over to my new place where I sort-of have a washer and dryer. Oh no! No laundry soap! So next I haul my tired (and slightly inebriated) ass to the store. What to my wondering eyes did appear next to the soap aisle but the beer aisle, and that Guinness looked like the answer right then. Sore throat? No appetite? Warm Guinness! I took care of three of them over the next two hours, then back to baby-daddy's with the clean clothes. What goes better with a lot of laundry to fold but...more brandy! Of course! It really did feel good on my throat, I have to say, and I love the intense focus I can have when I'm doing housework either drunk or stoned. My body can't have appreciated all the toxic crap she had to deal with after all that, however, and, already being under the weather, some really solid sleep was probably called for, for which alcohol doesn't help, apparently. We are off to a grand start!!! What adventures await in #55, I have to wonder? I'd really like to have an adventure, actually. Drinking myself numb is an old, tired schtick that I have experienced so very often. New frontiers, please!
I'm going to count down from 56, because starting from "1" feels daunting. Starting from 56 props me up with aromas of mastery yet to come.
So, 56 was tuesday. I started this blog, actually shared it with another live human being, then drank some brandy for my sore throat, then some more brandy. I don't actually posess any brandy of my own, mind you, I pilfered it from my baby-daddy's shelf at our former residence (it's been about 5 months living apart now, and no, I haven't been boozing it up at all to handle the transition stress, noooo, not me ;). After baby-daddy came home from work (killer late that day, it happens...), we gathered up a bunch of laundry for me to take over to my new place where I sort-of have a washer and dryer. Oh no! No laundry soap! So next I haul my tired (and slightly inebriated) ass to the store. What to my wondering eyes did appear next to the soap aisle but the beer aisle, and that Guinness looked like the answer right then. Sore throat? No appetite? Warm Guinness! I took care of three of them over the next two hours, then back to baby-daddy's with the clean clothes. What goes better with a lot of laundry to fold but...more brandy! Of course! It really did feel good on my throat, I have to say, and I love the intense focus I can have when I'm doing housework either drunk or stoned. My body can't have appreciated all the toxic crap she had to deal with after all that, however, and, already being under the weather, some really solid sleep was probably called for, for which alcohol doesn't help, apparently. We are off to a grand start!!! What adventures await in #55, I have to wonder? I'd really like to have an adventure, actually. Drinking myself numb is an old, tired schtick that I have experienced so very often. New frontiers, please!
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