Well shit here we are again drinking the blood of the earth and wondering whether or not the entire fourth division of the Santa Barbara Mockingbird Saints will come calling. Perhaps only half of them and that will be bad enough.
I’ve had too much to drink. I went out and tried to be something like a barfly. I tried to do the things that others do, to do things that would be fun, to leave the comfort of my own home and well, it was both good and bad.
GF was supposed to meet me at the bar, but instead she got out of school late so immediately we had to go to the grocery store and you know how that does wonders for my mood. Especially after three beers and a Hemingway daiquiri. And before that two cappuccinos. Looks like another red letter night for dreams.
We’re sitting at the table, she’s reading, and I’m thinking about nothing because my brain is racing like a pro.
Well I just don’t get inspired by alcohol like some people do. And now GF is moving to the couch, so I will have to follow suit, and she will fall asleep soon and I am working back to back doubles starting tomorrow so if I know what’s best for me I’ll go to sleep, just like she will in a matter of minutes, because she can’t be comfortable and read and drink tea without falling asleep.
I thought I had it all figured out, a number of times today, and then I don’t know, I got home and called Citibank.
You and all of these banks…
Tell me about it
Alcohol has never been a muse for me either… I find that I can’t sit still and my mind can’t focus long enough to either want to sit at a computer or come up with anything coherent to say. In college I could write and write and write while holding conversations with roommates and having the music blaring. Now, if there is anything else going on around me I’m distracted by it too easily and the words don’t end up being what I want them to be. The moral of them may be the same, but they lack the depth and power they might have had otherwise.
I could never write and talk. Sometimes I have trouble just eating and talking. But definitely don’t have coherent things to write while drinking. Weirdly I feel like I have more interesting things to talk about, though. Which is strange.
Just nominated you for an award–you can check it out on my blog! Bis, C. xx