Call it lushiness. Call it boredom. Call it loneliness even. On any random night, it would be one of those things. But tonight it is different. Tonight I polished off a bottle of wine--almost! not the entire thing but pretty damn close to it--becuase I was self-medicating.
Yes. Self. Medicatingingg.
(Let the drunken blogging begin.)
Really. Wine is the best medication. EVER.
Especially when the sickeness is hurtiness to the third degree. Which would be me at the moment.
Well...not so much at this very moment because I'm kinda sort of deee-runk, but this evening I hurt. A lot.
My ass! It is bruised! And it hella hurts. Because NMU has black ice on their parking lots. And of course I found it.
And the fall. Oooh, the fall. It was epic. It was Matrix-like. It was slow-motion and it was beautifully bittersweet. And I almost laughed at the sheer hilarity of it all. Until I realized that my ass hurt really bad. And that my wrist was throbbingg like a mofo. And that my left shoulder felt a little hurty-like.
I tried to shake-shake-shake it off (like Mariah Carey would), but a couple of hours later it still hurt. So with not a Tylenol insight, and a Riesling craving like none other, I embarked on a journey to Econo. There, I found a pretty bottle of wine and some Advil liqui-gels.
And now? An hour and a half later? I can't feel my lips. And the bruise on my ass is turning all shades of pretty colors. But it don't hurt. All thanks to Relax Rieslinngsng, er...Riesling. (I had to type that really shlow--ack!@--slow.)
Self-medicating is the greatest.
Ciao, dahling!
~*Krissy*~
PS: I know I'm drunk. I know that I'm not being responsible. Please don't email me or leave me notes about how dumb I am. Just shut up and laugh at the silly drrrunken me. Thanks.