Happy drunk
I’ve got to send a shout-out to Angie for bringing me sweet-and-sours mix, because I made myself a bunch of amaretto sours last night, and well, I slept beautifully and didn’t get up to wring Shorty B’s neck until 8 a.m. (Shorty B. usually starts pissing me off around 5:45 a.m. — I was able to snuggle back up with my pillows and ignore her for a couple of hours!)
The weird news is that my designer must’ve called me around 11 last night, and I picked up. Only thing is, I don’t remember the conversation. I looked at my phone this morning and saw his number on the list of recent calls. I saw him today and admitted that I don’t remember talking to him. He said he thought something was kind of off with me, but apparently I answered his questions because I got the proof today. 🙂
I’d say that I hope I didn’t say anything too stupid, but I do that when I’m perfectly lucid, so I’m surprised he noticed the difference. 🙂
At any rate, things always look better in the morning. I have a lot of thinking to do about my future, but this weekend is dedicated to proofing a 72-page tabloid. And alcohol — don’t forget the alcohol!
Parting thought: Everybody wish my good friend Dawn a happy birthday! Girl, you don’t look a day over 29 (and I mean that wholeheartedly!)!