Wee hours of the morning

Hey, Liddle Sis, did you know that 'Teen Spirit' is actually a deodorant? Just wondering.

The urge to pass out on the bed is coming back again. I managed to fight it during the day when I was working in the office (oh but of course, I was not the only one - everyone who was there looked as if they'd been plastered to the walls for quite a while, still in their jeans and sweatshirts) but it's coming back now in full force - "Bed is Best! Bed is Best!" chants my bed from behind me. Yes, I know dear, but let me just finish my blog post. M. is still in Montreal with his mates - "I can't wait to go home. I'm tired of going out!"he said, when he called me today - and I was going to joke to him about his going to the many strip clubs in that city (so did he go? What was it like? I've never been to a strip club) but I forgot because just then I spotted a yellow cab through the rain. We drank in a bar that had cheap and awful red wine and my ever so stylish friend said she was going to see a fashion show in a club which made me realise it was time for me to leave to see my other friend who I haven't seen in a while. I haven't seen any of my friends for over a month because I've been working the most horrendous hours (although it doesn't qualify as the first time I've worked such hours, I remember) and I wonder if M. realises that. It's a good thing he's away then, because I managed to catch up with three of my girlfriends all in one night. "Are you sick? Don't stay out too late," M. warned me, after I'd brightly announced to him that I am sick. But I am sick. I feel my body trembling with the combined effort of typing and sitting upright when in fact I had aches and fever earlier in the day. I guess I want to type this before I pass out: Women, stop being so nice (naive?) and realise this - if a guy whom you've been 'friends' with since you were seven years old tried hugging your knees when he's sober, chances are he's looking to get into your knickers. It's bye bye so-called friendship time. But my friend decided she would pass out on her sofa instead so I left her there (she refused to brush her teeth, silly woman) and took a taxi home, wondering if I had been too harsh in telling her the truth.

I'm going to buy 20 lottery tickets. If I win the jackpot I promise to do what M. said we'd do - "We'd give half of it to charity, of course." I love the way M. is so randomly assertive about the most obvious things in life and the fact that what he considers obvious usually coincides with what I consider obvious. Yay for coincidence. It is also a very good thing I have a king-sized bed to fall into and that I have enough bottles of water to last the inevitable hangover tomorrow. Good morning, New York.


It's all about the beer.