The last seven days have been pretty much...the shittiest seven days in a row that I have had in a while.
For those of you who haven't had the pleasure of being involved in it personally, here is a little recap.
Friday: Spliff took off for a trip to South Florida to visit a dying relative so I was super stoked about having the night to myself. Ernge decided to give me the luxury of taking a vacation but then The Kid came over anyway, to give me a cigarette (I "quit" two weeks ago) so that I wouldn't pull all of my hair out. Alone time? No. Panic? Oh hell yes.
Saturday: I woke up at 8am, still in a panic, but also completely hung over from the bottle of wine I drank while trying not to smoke cigarettes. (Note: Do not try and replace cigarettes with booze. It does not work. And if you were thinking that you would feel more guilty for smoking than for drinking, you will find that when you wake up and your head feels like an elephant sat on it overnight, a few cigarettes would have been well worth it. I'm just saying.) I canvased the neighborhood looking my little (read: huge) bastard cat with no luck, so I decided to go and spend the day with Anthony and Clifftopher. This would have been fine if Anthony and Clifftopher were...normal people. But they aren't. And they had woken up and immediately started drinking beer. So by the time I got there, Anthony was already well on his way to a drunken stupor and Clifftopher's first sentence to me after he found out Ernge was missing was, "Oh, that sucks! We hit a cat last night on our way back to work. It wasn't yours though, he looked just like Spliffany's cat." Wonderful. Way to ease a girl's mind. Now I am trying to remember when the last time I saw her was too. Everything was downhill from there. I narrowly escaped sometime between the opening of the Captain and the purchase of bottle number 2. And then I spent the rest of the night either crying hysterically or, well, crying hysterically.
Sunday: I finally got my alone time. Only, I couldn't sit still long enough to enjoy it. I got up entirely too early and started to cook. Yep. 8:30 am and I am making mango salsa, a breakfast casserole, and contemplating guacamole. All at the same time. The kitchen looked like a disaster but I didn't have time to panic until the kitchen was clean, the bathtub scrubbed and my toenails painted. Then came the waterworks. They were so bad this time that I actually had to take ten minutes to gain my composure so that I could call Spliffany and tell her that I hadn't found Ernge yet. I never need composure to talk to Spliffany. That's why we're friends. As soon as I hung up though, I heard that familiar, shrill "meow" coming from downstairs, for the first time since THURSDAY. And when I ran downstairs, barefoot and across my gravel driveway, (don't mind my bloody feet) I was just in time to see his big, poofy orange tail darting in the opposite direction. I figured he wouldn't stay away much longer now, the little fatty must have been hungry. Crisis averted!
Monday: Relieved by the fact that there was a large orange furball sleeping beside me when I woke up, but exhausted due to lack of restful sleep because of all the utter panic, I went to work where the mere mention of a happy hour get together is completely frowned upon...because everyone except about 5 of us is a recovering addict. So naturally, the girls and I decided to head out after work to celebrate 4/20 at E-Street. Which was all fine and good until about 9 o'clock when everyone decided that it would be a better idea to turn happy hour into some sort of obscenely late evening. Spliffany went home, leaving me with the three girls who were left, two of whom were hitting on inappropriate boys and the other who was bitching about the other two. I, and this might come as a shock, internet, STOPPED drinking...In order to help preserve the dignity and safety of the youngins. And, if I do say so myself, I did a damn good job. I yelled at people about being silly and called a taxi but then faltered at the end of the night when I was too tired to argue about letting someone drive me home. And then, there were cops. And there was drama. But luckily for her, there was no DUI and there was a taxi just waiting to rescue us. When I got home at close to 3am, I wanted nothing more than to curl up next to my favorite boy, and there he was, purring at me when I walked into the room! YAY!
Tuesday: All that happened of note on Tuesday is that I was an hour and 15 minutes late to work due to the lateness of my evening and inability to WAKE THE HELL UP when my alarm goes off...and the fact that I had to pick up a coworker (whose car was on the side of the road from the night before) before coming in. I did end up going shopping after work and rewarding myself with adorable flip-flops and an awesome dress (whish The Kid later told me was unflattering...to which I replied, "I don't care, it's comfy." Because it really could be the ugliest thing in the world, but I feel naked in it...so...whatever...I look like a cow. What else is new? But just a note: If you are my boyfriend, you are supposed to tell me that I am a goddess. All the time.)
Wednesday: BAD. BAD. BAD. But also sort of a relief. I might actually figure my head out. That's all.
Yesterday: A huge, annoying blur of crap that ended at 9pm when I hurled myself into dreamland.
Today: Pretty much the same as yesterday only will hopefully end in a bottle of wine. And there better not be any missing cats when I get home.