This morning is rough.
Real rough.
I just sat through a meeting about inflation projections, insured bonds and corporate structure.
I'd rather listen to a bullet whizzing through my skull.
Yesterday I said, "I don't think I'm going to drink tonight."
My mouth actually formed those words and they were verbalized to a friend.
So how did I get here? Let me tell you.
I got home last night and my wife was standing in the kitchen and there was a glorious aroma coming from the oven. Apparently the baby (Krazy K) had been a perfect angel all day so she was able to go food shopping, clean the house and make a spectacular dinner. I must say that I am way jealous that she gets to show the kid off in public while I sit in an office and try to convince people that it wasn't me who just farted. So I get in and she has a wonderful dinner made and a two wine glasses full. How can you argue with that? I guess the wine snuck up on me because less than three hours later the 14 beers in the fridge were gone and I was singing Christmas carols (much to the delight of Kyle and much to the chagrin of Brodie). I really don't remember falling asleep but Kristen didn't look disappointed with me this morning so I guess I didn't do anything really stupid. I actually have a story about that (I intended on telling another story today about my stupid neighbors but this one is way better)
I guess it was 6 years ago when I managed a video store and also worked at Suncoast Video part time. I really didn't need the second job at Suncoast but the people that worked there were fun and my boss was into film and an overall good guy. So one night my boss at Suncoast invites me over to his parents house to swim in their pool and hang out with some of his friends. I was working at my other job that night but decided to head over when I got off. (It should be explained that because I was the manager at the rental place and the owner never checked up on the store I would drink during every shift. I mean drink heavy. A normal evening would find me and a fellow employee drinking an entire bottle of Vlad's. I distinctly remember my assistant manager calling his roommate and telling him he couldn't drive home because he drank too much at work.) I do remember getting to the party and realizing that everyone was a lot older than me. They were quite nice but I felt a little out of place. Well that really is the last thing I remember until the next morning. I woke up with a fleshy tennis ball where my little toe used to be and there was a trail of blood leading from the car to my bed. Here is what happened in step by step fashion
(according to numerous people including my future wife)
-I showed up to the party a little tipsy.
-I was given a drink called a "Hurricane"
-Kristen's (girlfriend then, wife now) high school crush showed up.
-I strip down to boxers and jump in the pool.
-I get asked to leave the pool because people believe that I may be re leaving myself in it.
-I have a few beers.
-I try to walk back to the pool but fall off the pavement and land in my boss's parents rose bush.
-Blood begins to flow from where my pinky toe nail used to be.
-Someone yells "Get him out of here"
-Kristen's high school crush has to pick me up out of this rose bush. I am still only wearing boxers which I am told were riding way up on me.
-I am escorted to the back porch while my wife apologizes to all the attendees of the party.
-I begin to tell my wife's ex-crush how much I enjoyed his ska band in high school.
-He walks away in mid sentence with a look of disgust on his face.
-Kristen then turns to see me drinking ranch dressing from a huge bowl. The dressing was meant for dipping but that didn't stop me.
-I vomited on the side of the house.
-I got carried to the car.
I can't believe I'm a dad.
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