Drunk, drunk, drunk, drunk, drunk . . . that, my fair kats and kittens, is what I am. Was invited out to to celebrate someone's last day at my crappy job and I SWORE up and down I don't drink alcohol, but when it came down to it I essentially said, "Fuck it," and drank until I was stumbling even then. Somehow, they knew. It's been YEARS (yes, the PLURAL is intended and not a result of sloppy typing) since I've drank this much alcohol. I kinda remember how much fun it could be. Tomorrow I see both the therapist AND the doctor (to get permission to check my blood because my Pills fuck with certain enzymes and what have you), and I get to announce I drank until 3:30 IN THE FUCKING MORNING! NOT GOOD, but . . . I had fun. I haven't had an honest night's drinking fun with anyone I feel REMOTELY comfortable with in . . . well, a very long time. I admit it was three drinks and someone buying a round of shots before I even CONSIDERED that they were people I was comfortable with, but in the end I was comfortable with them.

Will I wake up regretting it in the morning? Since I have to be awake in less than five hours, probably. Still, I had fun and I haven't been able to have fun in this town since I arrived. Is this what normal people do when they need to pretend they have friends?

Oh, and for those that know of my oddly prophetic "powers" when I'm drunk . . . they were still in full force, and scared the CRAP out of some people. It was amusing. And I still wound up being everyone else's therapist, which is another typical for me.

But, I had fun. I went out and had fun with people I knew here in town, and that's a milestone. Later, I'll worry about having repeated a pattern that's more than a decade old and not so healthy, but for now I'll just have fun.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to drunk email friends in other States and sleep like death isn't just stalking me, but is already here.

Peace, one and all.