Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Fucked up.

I've been a bad Mikey. I haven’t had any sleep since I woke up yesterday morning, and there’s no sign of a restful slumber anywhere on the horizon. My throat hurts a little too and at the moment, I feel like blowing chunks. Oh yeah, and my head feels like a giant fuck-off bus has hit it. Like one of those Routemaster double-decker things.

See, last night, I managed to blow half of last week's pay on alcohol in the first episode of shameful binge drinking for the new year (the other half I spent on underwear – don't ask). Actually, I'm glad I held out this long, for all of eleven days. But with Dad overseas and Mum over at her house, I had Dad's place all to myself. And lately, with the parents around post-mugging, it's been hard to just up and decide to get plastered on the golden mile/kilometre/fraction thereof. So I upped and decided to get plastered.

There was beer and spirits but of course my drink of choice is the Vodka and Red Bull, which is a really silly drink when you think about it. I spent most of the night and the wee hours of the morning both drunk and wired at the same time. The feeling starts to grate after a while and gosh, how I regretted consuming them all. I had quite a few of them which is a little disconcerting, seeing as people have died from drinking large amounts of the stuff. And you know, I think I'm still a little wired now. And my pulse is racing.

Mind you, this all happened at the Wall of Stone, where Tuesday is karaoke night. I'm not game enough to put my dignity on the line, even with a few drinks in me but I did, in my drunken stupor, promise people that I'd get up next week and sing something tragic. Stupid Dan. And stupid blond boy who looks like a younger, more musical version of the ex-boyfriend N!xau.

So anyway, I got home in the wee hours, head buzzing and fingers smelling like cigarettes. Instead of sleeping I watched early morning free-to-air TV and worried about if I was going to die of a Red Bull overdose while feeling hangover symptoms slowly creep upon me. I didn't think that was possible. Meh.

At the moment though, I'm at the Access Centre at Fisher, killing time until work tonight. Normally I'd be sleeping in until some godforsaken hour of the afternoon and waking up in time for work. Not today of course. With all my items of entertainment still sitting in my room at Mum's place, including el gringo lappytop, and friends all being productively utilised at their places of employment, there was no other place to go than the library and her air-conditioned interior. How nerdy. I was originally going to go up to the Con Library, but there are greenie protests up that part of the City, and well, lack of laptop to rip music with. And I need to build up my tosser cred and read up on some classic literature that everyone else besides me has read.

Listening to:
Title: If You Find Yourself Caught in Love
Artist: Belle & Sebastian
Album/station: Dear Catastrophe Waitress (2003)
Length: 4.15