Back To Good

I know how you all worry, so I wanted to let you know that now, after consuming a large burrito and about a gallon of lemonade, as well as napping on and off throughout the day, I'm finally feeling back to my old self. Not that my "old self" is any great shakes or anything... nonetheless, being a shabby fat guy will always trump being a shabby fat guy who's miserably hungover.

Despite the craziness of this week and all it's inherent emotional baggage, at the moment all appears to actually be well. Girlfriend made some dynamite Cheesecake Brownies, it's not to hot in herre, and the Vegas odds on me getting a good night's sleep are heavily in my favor; all things that are particularly choice, especially when coming off of such a spectacular Cocktail Flu as the one I was lugging around earlier. I'm sure I'll probably get taken down by sniper tomorrow, or the Eastern Seaboard will be consumed by a tidal wave larger than the Petronas Towers, or the aliens will finally land, pissed off about how they've been portrayed in our movies over the years, but... as of, eh, 12:29am... things are a-okay.

In fact, there's a smile on my face and a song in my heart (specifically, "These Dreams Of You" by Van Morrison"). I am gonna make it after all!!!

Oh fuck... this totally just jinxed me, didn't it? Man, tomorrow's going to kick my ass...