Sometimes you wake up on a Monday and try to kick the damned dog that keeps trying to sleep in your bed that you hate and smells like garbage. And then you realize that it’s not a dog, it’s a human. And… why is there sand everywhere? Is that a broken glass? Oh my god, and then you discover that it’s your ex-boyfriend’s ex-roommate in bed next to you and he’s only in his super tight, kind of shiny boxer briefs…. And you can’t do anything so you just lay back down and pray that if you go back to sleep you’ll wake up and he won’t be there anymore. And if you’re really lucky, that wound on your arm will heal and your hangover will disappear.
But, it doesn’t. And it’s Monday. Which means that you have to figure out how to be a grown up, get your shit together and brush your hair and get to work.
That was my morning. It’s been a long time since I’ve been that girl, piecing together my life from the far corner of my bed praying that I made it home with my credit card, ID and phone. And… ugh. He’s still there… Was he always so cute though? Wait, when did he get all those tattoos? Am I… no… Wait, am I attracted to this guy? What the hell happened?
Evidently, we spent the evening in very deep, very emotional conversations planning our long distance relationship, since he’s in the army and lives across the country. I don’t even have opinions aside from being baffled and still being annoyed that there is sand everywhere. And, I’m not sure… but I have a crush on him?
36 hours of drinking. Straight booze. And really pathetically adorable drunk people confessing their love. The holidays, it would seem, are bad for my liver.