Saturday night I hit the sauce pretty hardcore for the first time in awhile.
During the day I was supposed to go the see the Mets game, but that bitch Mother Nature had other plans. Yup, after riding the John Rocker's favorite 7 train out to Shea they announced the game was off. It had been raining all day, but I guess they didn't want to call it until they knew there was no hope. So, with a block of time suddenly wide open, my baseball cohorts and I decided we could go for something to eat. This of course led to something to wash that food down, and all of a sudden I was mildly drunk. I didn't think I was, but when I got on the A train to head home, I was so into my music that I looked up at the stop past where I needed to get off.
Idiot.
Anyway, I finally got my ass home, made some phone calls, chilled for a bit and then was back out.
Out for one blind cavefish Jess' birthday celebration. This was our first meeting since we first crossed blogs back in (I think) late 2004. As it turns out, she is neither blind or a fish, so that was a relief. I don't want to talk for all parties involved, but I think it is safe to say a good drunken time was had by all.
For myself, a whole lot of Jack and gingers, an unnecessary shot of tequila and a slice of pizza on my walk home resulted in me waking up on my couch at 7:45 am fully clothed. I moved to my bed and stayed there until about 11:45am. Then I got up for a big move back to the couch. I watched some Mets baseball (the game I should have seen, a day late), checked my e-mail, ate a PB&J and then hit the couch again. There I put on the world's greatest sleeping pill -- auto racing. That shit puts me out cold. I don't know if it is the hypnotic motion of the cars circling a track or if it is the noise or what, but it works like a charm. I snoozed for another couple of hours, got up watched a couple of movies and ate some Chinese food and with another fun work week just around the corner, packed it in for good.
Boo-ya ... another productive Sunday.
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