This is Not How to Spring Forward

Oh how I've missed starting my mornings being afraid to get out of bed to see how I *really* feel.  After stepping away from the bourbon for about six days, I decided to rejoice in the Saturdayness that was, and brought out Mr. Meet your Makers.  The end result being me feeling somewhat like garbage this morning.  Not a NYC corner pile on pick up day....just a small office waste bucket really.  But even feeling like a few crumpled pieces of paper or an empty egg and cheese container is still dabbling in the Crap Arts.  It'll be a few hours of self nurture and it will dissipate.  We finally made it to the berry applesauce and I did manage a piece of toast. Right now I'm doing what all folks on Sunday morning who over imbibed would love to do....cook and fill the house with the scent of vanilla pancakes!

My coffee has barely been touched, my water bottle bears a sash that says "How you like me NOW?"

A couple more hours and this will be a funny memory - can't wait!  

In the throes of trying to stomach making my coffee this morning, I stepped on the tiniest chip of glass.  The kind that is disproportionately painful to its actual size.  It was so small that I couldn't grip my fingernails around it to pull it out.  But I noticed something.  Remember when we were kids and would hear people say something to the effect of "How about I stomp on your foot to make you forget your headache"?  There's something to that.  The entire time I worked on getting this tiny piece of Satan out of my foot, I forgot completely about moaning and whining from the hangover.  But as you can tell, it is out now.  

So I am listening to some archived Big Broadcast from WFUV, sitting on a stool and sipping what I hope will be motivation.  Our trip to San Diego and Mesa is in three weeks.  The kid is getting her wicked cough on now, so that should be settled before we go.  We will see one of my very best friends get married and now that I think of it, an alcohol free wedding may not be so bad after all.  

After the wedding, we'll head to Mesa, Arizona to go be with Miz Eye, my oldest and my awesome Grandwolfie.  I made a date last night with the closest thing that I'll have to a son, Grandwolfie's dad, so we can go play DDR and get our Cheers on.  I can't wait.  Because I'm horrible at DDR.  

Humanling and I are so psyched about every aspect of this trip that we're even looking forward to the layover in Chicago for eight hours.  

And so, I must now bribe the Gods to light a good enough fire under my ass so that I may carry on this beautiful Sunday as previously planned, before that 3rd glass of bourbon last night.