03. Hung over

Few years ago, I could drink all I wanted, wake up and feel like a champ.

                                                                    not. anymore.

I feel like shit. Plain and simple. I know I should eat something, but I swear there’s still pounds of chicken wings sloshing around in there. Ew.

I shouldn’t be surprised. Every time I go out with Veronica Lynn, we end up drinking like fish. It’s always a good time, sometimes to good of a time. Though its always just what I need, at the perfect time. Good times, a good friend, and not a care in the world.

 

Needless to say, I didn’t wake up for my blood work this morning. Nor could I have gone if I wanted to, I definitely didn’t have that 12 hour window of not consuming anything. Ooops. I thought about it, but I just wanted a little bit of time not to think of how bad the results could, I wanted one second of not thinking, not analyzing what’s wrong with me.

Not only does my drinking habits cause for a terrible hang over, but it makes me miss her more. I held out all day saying anything to her, until last night, around 1am, I sent her a message on messenger. It did no good. It only, again, shoved in my face she’s gone. She’s not coming back. Why I did it to myself  I’ll never know. Maybe trying to have a little hope.

 

                                                                                now,

                                                                                        there’s no hope left.

 

 

it’s like a small hole in my chest, no one can see,

no one can feel it, no one even cares it’s there.

 

 

I suppose I could get ready to head into the slave house. Make my self more presentable then I have in the past few weeks. Try and act like I’m in the “sweatpants” stage of my life. Mentally prepare my self to be yelled at for something I had no control over on my day off. My boss, is seriously like a wife, I cant sleep with, and have no kids with, that I get trapped in a building with, for nothing less then 10 hours a day.

                                                                                                        Honestly,

                                                                                     I don’t even want to move from this couch.

 

 

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