I’m drinking wine and being pissed in more ways than one. I hate it when technology fails me. I needed to be in a chat room tonight and I couldn’t get logged in. It was so damn frustrating watching this conversation flow and not being able to participate. It was kind of like being a voyeur at an orgy. No fun at all. So here I sit. I can’t get me no intelligent conversation, and I can’t get me no fuel for my car (which is inconvenient but not actually bad, because I want us all to have electric cars. Well most of us). What options are left to me? Why open up that nice bottle of red that your friend gave you on Saturday and blog. Heavy sigh.
Now I feel better, but I don’t feel like writing anything. Drunkenness, well tipsiness really, is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, I feel very mellow, and the other I have no angst and my snark has left me. It’s all for the best really. I’ve been in the cups before and blogged. It doesn’t usually end well. So … rather than have to defend myself later or wrestle with messy restraining orders I think I’ll go and luxuriate in my tipsiness in bed. I’d watch a movie, but I’d feel guilty for not having the attention span to enjoy it. Besides, I spent all day working on this suburban noir thing and it left me feeling very dark. I’ll be back when I’ve recovered.
