Hangover

Tuesday morning I awoke in a pool of my own vomit in my bed with my eyes crusted over with glitter and eyeliner. I had 47 missed calls, 12 new voicemails, and six text messages. I managed to gain a grasp on gravity and walk down the stairs to the kitchen. I poured some overly sweet lemonade down my throat and followed the trail of my clothes into the bathroom.

My head was spinning. I had no idea where my coat was and I don't know what happened to my money. All I had to show for a night at work were a few crumpled dollar bills, a headache, and vomit encrusted hair.

I layed on the delicious cold bathroom floor. It was so soothing and comforting. Behind me the clock on the microwave changed. 11:38. Piss! I missed class.

I crawled up the stairs and pulled myself into the guest room. I fumbled the pile of clothes and fashion magazines strewn about on the bed. I crawled under the covers and fell asleep.

3:00. My head was still killing me. Managed to piss off friends I apparently told I would hang out with.

It's Thursday and I am still feeling like shit from Monday. I think most of it is emotion and stress. I have class in an hour and I am not feeling very motivated to go.

I need a break. I need to graduate. I want to get married and have kids. I want security in a big fluffy duvet with hot tea and muffins. I want to write a book.

Anyone care to take me to dinner at Le Bec Fin, buy me a Louis Vuitton purse, and a new pair of Manolo's? Anyone?