Does anybody read these?

Sunday, January 14, 2007

Maybe...

I had this big post planned out in my head. It was fabulous, in the way an Alanis Morissette song is fabulous. It was filled with angst, hostility and overall bitchiness. You would've loved it. Right after you made a mental note to not piss me off anytime soon.

But that moment has passed. Or perhaps more accurately, it was washed away in a flood of mango rum and pineapple juice. Speaking of which, does anyone remember me drinking the last of the coconut, because I bought Coke Zero for it and I was sad that it was gone. Am out of booze, so I'll be heading to the liquor store very soon. If I weren't so anxious to come home, put on my PJs and cry, I'd probably have gone to the bar and drank massive amounts of Crown Royal. Generally at the bar I can find someone to play Merle Haggard and Keith Whitley for me. However, today I probably would've had to deal with tourists, and I hate tourists like poision.

I'd just like to point out that I was not an asshole when I was a tourist here. I was fun. Just like I am now. Except tonight, because I am that weepy drunk tonight. Part of it might have to do with the fact that I have PMS. And no chocolate. And the fact that I've been too busy crying to drink.

I'm in a bad mood right now. The booze has erased some of the pain (and given me a raging headache), but I have a feeling that when I wake up tomorrow, I will still be pretty pissed off. I'm not sure it'll go away sometime soon.

Unlike Hemingway, who pretty much had to be lit to write, I can't write worth a shit when I've been drinking. This sucks, and I know it. My Alanis Morrissette song is buried somewhere and I don't know if I'll get it out if (yes, I said "if." What are you going to do about it?) I ever sober up.

At least I know that I can't ever be an alcoholic as long as I want to be a writer, because my brain doesn't work that way.

However, my brain did spend the whole day between telling me to cry and concentrating on when I could get home and drink, which scares the fuck out of me. I very rarely have urges like that, which is good. I don't want to be an alchololic. I don't want to go down that road. I know what my genetic make-up looks like, and I try really hard to stay aware of my drinking so problems don't arise. So, it makes me nervous when I spend a whole day concentrating on drinking. But to be fair to me, I'm not positive that I've ever needed a drink so badly before in my life.

That's not true. No one needs to drink. Maybe I'll work on that.

Or maybe that's just the booze talking.

I need to go now, and I don't know when I'll get back. I don't want to subject you all to my bitchy mood any more than necessary. I don't think you'll get the whole story either. It's not worth mentioning anyhow.

Maybe someday, maybe not ... No point in dragging anyone else into this. It's all my fault, anyhow. It always is.

Song of the day: "You Take Me For Granted" from my new favorite CD: Jones sings Haggard, Haggard sings Jones: Kickin' out the Footlights Again.

I'm sorry I can't spell right now. I just want to go to bed and make it all go away.

Until tomorrow. When it all starts up again.

So, maybe you'll get that post you want tomorrow. The liquor store will be closed...

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