I’m pretty sure I could at least get a bronze medal in the event. Mind you, I don’t iron when sober, so why on god’s green earth would I opt to use a really hot metal device (aka: accident waiting to happen) after an extended happy hour? A happy hour which, btw, included no food for me. Then again, vodka can be considered a vegetable as some are made from potatoes, right? 😉 Anyway, I’m back home from happy hour with my amazingly gorgeous friend. She’s single, and successful and outwardly has everything going for her. And she, like me, is going thru a bit of a confidence challenge. I almost fell off my seat when she told me. I always thought she had her shit together, as she did me, but alas, we’re both apparently pretty damn good actresses. Anyway, it was great to see her and we had a nice time making fun of the middle aged woman in a teenie bopper dress complete with ample ‘side boob’ (thanks Kim whatever your name is from housewives for coining that gem).
We had a good time. I whined ‘woe is me’, she whined ‘woe is me’, we drank lots and then left. I got home and continued to drink. And then vacuumed. And then did laundry. And pre blog session, opted to iron. 2 shirts before I lost interest, but still I think I did a damn good job. (I lost count of how many ill placed commas I used in the previous paragraph, but whatever.) So I’m ironing. And have cleaned. And why the hell would I waste a good buzz on housework, you ask? Well even if you didn’t, that would be because being productive while semi drunk beats the shit out of acknowledging that I’m semi drunk. At home. Alone. 😦 Damn.