You can’t go back

14 Feb

What does it mean when the worst thing that ever happened to someone- the thing that makes them inconsolably sad- was the 2016 election result, but the worst thing that ever happened to you- makes you inconsolably sad- is that person leaving you? And what does it mean when she tells you it’s not the end of the world that she’s leaving but said it was the end of the world when President Agent Orange got the keys to 1600 Penn Ave?

Anyway, I made an ass out of myself feeling sorry for myself last night. I walked to the store and bought a liter of Glenlivet. I proceeded to drink 90% of said bottle straight out the bottle, in a plastic bag, as I walked around the neighborhood talking to my friend about life’s tortuous path. Soon it was pretty much stumbling around the neighborhood if we are being honest. People in Slidell must really mind their own business because I don’t remember a single light coming on or person having a garage party (every other house in my neighborhood has a garage party nightly) noticing me. I was loud as hell on the phone. Also, I stole my wife’s cigarettes and smoked like 6. This is basically how single me reacted to bad news: smoking and drinking. It was glorious for an hour or 2, and booze really does go down smoothly when you’re super sad. And I guess I didn’t really make an ass out of myself if no one noticed. Trees falling in empty forests and whatnot.

Unfortunately, I quit smoking a few years ago and I am not cut out to down a liter of booze in a night anymore. So when I finally got back home, I realized WOW I AM SUPER FUCKED UP AND I HAVE TO GET UP IN 6 HOURS AND GET MY KID ON THE BUS AND GO TO WORK. So I had to induce a reversal. I reversed until I could bear to lay down, then went to sleep on my living room floor. Right after I sent a drunk text to my boss apologizing for missing work, just in case. Good times!

I did get up once during the night and puke again, but man I made it- kid, work, all of it. People were depending on me and I answered the bell. Because I have to and that makes me want to.

PS if you want the cashier at Target to leave you alone about applying for a Target credit card, just look as sad, tired, hungover, shaky, angry, and hotile as possible. He’ll just bag your shit, take your money, and let you go.

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