Still Drinking

Wake up mid-afternoon with a headache that’s basically a separate organism. That’s the moment you know whether you had an awesome night or you’re officially old—today it’s both. I’d have injected aspirin straight into my brain if that were possible, but what I actually did first was upload yesterday’s photos. All of us at Rosi’s, properly destroyed, grinning like we had somewhere to be.

Mandy wants to meet at Alexa for shopping, which kills my How I Met Your Mother time. Not that I’m devastated about missing a show I’ve already seen a hundred times when my skull feels like it’s slowly collapsing.

So I’m handling this the only rational way: another Mon Chéris. Not because it’ll fix anything. Just to stay right here. Just to keep this level for a few more hours.