"How much trouble can we get into on a Monday night?" I asked Emily. She was laying back on my bed while I dressed for dinner. She said nothing, narrowed her eyes. We thought we'd go to Garibaldi and sit in Roscoe's section because "It's going to have the best results for the least amount of money." So Emily thought.
Can't you hear the cava in my voice? I have no idea why I took this video.
Gruet at Circa and Sapphire at Bacchus inevitably followed. At one point, I slipped home to write an entirely useless paragraph "for the novel" and went back to the bar. I was laughing about all of this until about two today, when the hangover kicked in, leaving me incapable of most anything, much less finishing the first draft of my novel.
Not much more writing to do for the first draft!
I have roughly a week's worth of work to do. Today I have done NOTHING, thanks to this hangover but tomorrow I plan to fully resume. It's unlike me to take a day off. For every day I miss, it takes about three days to get back to where I was. right now, I'm writing some exciting stuff. Already thinking of making changes but I need to finish and wait and read and see. So excited.
(I had other stuff to write here, just a paragraph about a phone interview with an artist for a piece I'm writing, but Julip laid down beside my computer and erased it with his head on the delete key. This sort of sums up my day. Uhhh...)