I woke up early this morning with a hangover. A screwdriver hangover, to be exact. Captain Carl and I went to a jazz club last night and it was fantastic. Tiny place, amazing live jazz music and a lot of drinking.
We were supposed to go to Worky's Paparazzi party, but I decided to be a shitty friend and skip it. I know....I suck. But today is our 6th anniversary and I really wanted to be alone with the Captain last night to celebrate. So that's what we did, and I got drunk off three screwdrivers. In my defense, they were really strong...but yeah, I'm a lightweight. I'm pretty sure I started quoting Pee Wee's Big Adventure on the walk back to the car.
There are things about me you wouldn't understand....things you couldn't understand....things you shouldn't understand.
We got home around 1am after a stop at Whataburger for some grease...which is what Captain Carl said I needed when I realized how tipsy I was after we left the club. There's just nothing like a cheeseburger at 1am, right? I had forgotten how good they tasted.
So I was planning on sleeping in this morning. I woke up at 8:30, which is not nearly late enough for my taste. But my head was pounding and I had cotton mouth, so I got up. I decided to open a window and enjoy the birds singing before everyone else in my boarding house woke up.
Just me and the puke monsters...listening to the birds and feeling the cool morning breeze.