Fuck
Well, I am drunk
I know it's Tuesday night and my typing is surprisingly accurate. But it's a talent I have to type accuratley whilst drunken. Maybe it's a writer thing.
Why am I drunk on a Tuesday night, you ask? I'll tell ya. What I thought was something happening, something infallible, something going well, has proven to be otherwise.
And I'm fucking depressed and wondering what the fuck I did wrong.
It's possible I've blown it out of proportion, but I don't think so.
It's also possible my typing is not as accurate as I think it is after many scotches on an empty stomach. Who cares.
I know it's Tuesday night and my typing is surprisingly accurate. But it's a talent I have to type accuratley whilst drunken. Maybe it's a writer thing.
Why am I drunk on a Tuesday night, you ask? I'll tell ya. What I thought was something happening, something infallible, something going well, has proven to be otherwise.
And I'm fucking depressed and wondering what the fuck I did wrong.
It's possible I've blown it out of proportion, but I don't think so.
It's also possible my typing is not as accurate as I think it is after many scotches on an empty stomach. Who cares.
2 Comments:
just wanted to let you know that you're post inspired me to have a glass of wine at 10 o'clock at night.
Well, I hope you got drunk on something really yummy, like margaritas' Or bay breezes or even strawberry daqueris.(sp)
I have a tendency to blow things out of proportion, especially if I'm PMS'ing. Hope whatever it is, it works itself out.
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