I love how just recently I wrote about my tumultous relationship with alcohol, and mentioned how I don't even drink very often anymore, and then I experience a stretch like Paul's wedding week.
I am absolutely catatonic today. This is an extended hangover on the same level as coming back from Vegas. (Side note: after one of my Vegas trips, I was completely strung out, and my first night back at Culligan was rough. Jon-Jon was leaving for work at around 7 a.m. the next morning, and when he came out into the living room, he found me sitting on the couch, eyes glazed over, double-fisting 24 oz. energy drinks and watching Richie Rich on TBS. And that's about how I feel like today.)
My eyes are completely dried out. So far today I've only eaten an apple and a nutri-grain bar (so I'm about 6,000 calories under my daily average.) My lips are roughly the same color as A-Rod's in the 8th inning of a chilly October playoff game. My tongue feels so furry, it's like somebody stuffed a teddy bear inside my mouth. I could brush my teeth for 3 hours straight and my mouth still wouldn't feel fresh. I have absolutely no sense of what time it is, and can't understand why there isn't a beer in my hands at any given moment. My back hurts, my head hurts, my life hurts.
I'll write an extended review of the shenanigans, once pictures start surfacing and I can have some visual aids, but for now here's a crude breakdown of Wednesday-Sunday:
Wednesday: Work 7am-3pm. Drive from Lawrence to Fargo, 4pm-1am. Have a couple beers at Fundy's place. Go to sleep.
Thursday: Drive from Fargo to Bismarck 10:30am-1:30pm. Drink 2pm-8am (not a typo.) Sleep 8am-10am. We're actually well into Friday now.
Friday: Pick up tux, do wedding rehearsal, load up on ibuprofen, tums, claritin, go to groom's dinner. Drink 4pm-4am.
Saturday: Swimming, pictures, wedding, wedding dance, after-party. Drink 6pm-3am.
Sunday: Gift-opening, drive from Bismarck to Fargo 12pm-3pm. Eat with family, Bergman, and Russell. Drive from Fargo to Lawrence 4pm-1am.
Today: re-evaluation of life.
I originally had today off from work, but since I got back to town ahead of schedule last night, I decided that I would just go in and work today, and I could save that vacation day for later this year. I immediately regret that decision.
Don't misconstrue this as me looking for sympathy. I know that I have no one to blame but myself. I'm just trying to give an accurate portrayal of my current physical state. If you're scoring at home, once I set foot in Bismarck on Thursday afternoon, I logged 39 hours of drinking and 11 hours of sleeping over the next three days.
As Barney Gumble would say, "Don't cry for me, I'm already dead."
