I Done Fucked Up

I was supposed to have that contest ready by today but I don’t.  Sorry, I had  pretty rough weekend.  I’m not going to get into the cause right now, but more or less I was misled – likely unintentionally – about a get together on Friday night.  When I found out someone I didn’t want to see was there, I rolled out.  I’m a dick, ’cause someone was in town that I was looking forward to seeing.  However, by not being there I may have prevented some unneeded bullshit.  Whatever, that’s not the thing.  The thing is that this situation – even though it likely wasn’t intentional – made me a crybaby sissyboy (I didn’t actually cry, but you know… got salty), so I found a liquor store and headed home to game, order a pizza, and flirt with skanks on the internet, because that’s how I deal with my pain.  Healthy, right?  I woke up with terrible hangover on Saturday morning.  It was awful.  I drove to gas station and picked up some Powerade Zero things – they’re a buck each around here at most locations for… I don’t know, a while.

The “Gatorade Cure” never worked for me when I was younger.  Then again, hangovers when I was younger were never really bad.  I think the worst one I had before turning about 25 was cured with a bottle of water, one Tylenol, a cold slice of pizza, and whatever was left of the orange soda I was using as a mixer the night before.  I was fine in about half an hour, and was able to go out that night.  That’s not how things work for me anymore.  If I go even one drink over my safe zone, the next morning will be hell, and it could last all day.  This goes for pretty much any substance.  In my early 20’s, I could drink coffee all day with it having almost no effect on me.  Now if I have one too many cups, my heart starts pounding like it’s trying to escape.  So while I now get way more wrecked by booze, the water and electrolytes or whatever it is that plants crave can now bounce me back.  I don’t get all the way fixed, but it can make me functional when I otherwise am not.

So grabbed the Powerades and headed back to my place.  I sports-drinked and cold-pizzed myself back to “alright” and started to deal with some of the stupid projects and chores I have around my place.  As much as I would like to, I just can’t bring myself to spend a full weekend doing jack-shit.  Which reminds me (tangent time), I’m going to list some of these projects here.  For some reason, I tend to get to them a lot more quickly after I mention them here:

  • replace toilet reservoir
  • replace bathroom fan
  • choose paint scheme
  • paint
  • deal with my kitchen drawers
  • finish one of those damn guitars
Alright, back to the thing.  I did some projects but not a ton, dicked around a little, and headed out to pick up some bullshit.  I grabbed some tobacco for my hookah a hunk of pig, ’cause I had some cravings and I was going to indulge them.  I got home and busted out my slow cooker.  Remember a few weeks ago when I said I wanted some pulled pork?  Well, I decided to just make myself some.  And then I decided to re-derail my weekend.  Back to the booze, add some tobacco, and blah blah blah.  Well, I don’t smoke much anymore, and there’s the whole “it effects me more now” thing going on, so that night went all the way bad.
Sunday was fine, but I felt and looked terrible.  It was also a birthday party for my Mom, so… that was maybe ill advised.  Anyway, I think I pulled myself together enough to at least seem okay.  My brother and I made some bomb-assed BLTs.  We had chocolate cake.  I moved another giant heavy thing.  Like really, it’s been every weekend for the past few months.  I went back home and started drinking again.  I stopped and went to bed before 10, ’cause I really wasn’t into the idea of being royally hungover at work.  That worked out, but I still feel like ass from everything else I did.  Which brings me to my teasing for Wednesday’s post – “The First Annual Scum Week”.  I maybe shouldn’t share it, but whatever, right?  This blog can’t be any good if I’m not willing to be open and honest about my shitty self.
tl;dr – A thing didn’t work out so I got a depressed and sissy and drank myself into a hole until about Sunday morning, now my body hurts and I need another sports drink.
I’m thinking a crossword for that contest, by the way.  It would fit some of the original concepts I was going for.