(or why alcohol is the milk of Satan)
Alcohol at various bars: $40
Cellphone, lost somewhere around the Peyote Cafe or Nolan's: $50 (or more)
Cab ride back to Adams Morgan to find cellphone: $25
License, lost somewhere in the quest to find the cellphone: $30
Self-respect, lost when I started crying in the Adams Morgan subway station, after realizing I had lost my license: priceless
There are some things money can't buy. But you can lose everything at Adams Morgan.
I was actually starting to have faith in my ability to grow up and take care of myself. I pay rent and insurance. I have a job that I dislike intensely (if that isn't a sign of being grown up, what is?). I cook and clean for myself, I go grocery shopping, I take care of small animals (but I still kill plants). I own two credit cards and pay for my graduate classes.
But all this independence was wiped away with one night of drunken celebration.
I should have just stayed home and worked on my novel.
Whenever I tell my friend that I have to work on my novel, she jokes that she can't do something because she has to cure cancer. Or wash her hair.
Psychiatrist: So, you said you'd marry him just to be polite?
Bree: Sometimes, there's a downside to having good manners.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
I should have just stayed home and worked on my novel.
Once again proving that everything is indeed my fault.
Once again, I'm super sorry about the whole dreaded evening. I ruin everything.
-R
Oh, don't be ridiculous. I still had fun with YOU. I am uber-glad I got to see YOU.
I am merely miffed at my own reckless behavior.
PS- I so missed talking to you during three hours of TV goodness last night!
Post a Comment