Time-Out Box

So this week(end) was f’ing interesting on so so so many levels. Everything from locking myself out of my apartment (twice), to Brian being so drunk, he decided to “take a little nap” on the streets of Georgetown at 2am on Saturday, to me putting Mr. Henry, P.A.T.T. and Tony in the “time-out” box, here’s the summary of my 5 vodka filled days (6 if you count tonight):

10. If I owned stock in vodka, any brand, even Popov, I’d be rich, albeit, I’d drink most of my shares...

9. Hung out with Brian Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday and last-night. Spent the night Saturday night...

8. Tony text me Friday & Saturday wanting to “see” me. We had so many random conversations about “us” and seeing each other. I don’t want to “see” him like that

7. P.A.T.T. is the first to enter the ‘time-out” box this weekend. Saturday at 1pm, I realized I locked myself out of my apartment. I call/text and send flare messages, just short of calling the National Guard, to get my extra set of keys from her. Long story short, the biatch (yes, that’s not Diva like) never came through. Sunday morning, I flushed $139.00 down the toilet, just so the locksmith could get me in my place.

6. Brian had his going away BBQ Saturday. Hung there, then he & I hit the streets of Georgetown later. We go to our trusty faithful, and he either got roofied or can’t hold his liquor (that was a first). He decided to pee outside, on M Street (the main walkway), lay down on the concrete, and throw-up outside of his apartment building...(the night didn’t end there, tell you about it later)

5. Friday is a blur. I had so much fun, I sobered up towards the end of the night, when this guy “insisted” on taking me home. Being the quick, clever, ultimate smart chick that I am. I tricked him. I sent him back in the club to get me some water. As soon as he was out of eyesight, I hailed a cab and took my ass home...

4. Guess, dude didn’t have “hard” feelings. The next day he called me and said that was hilarious. He came back out with the water, and said I “disappeared".

3. I forgot to mention on Thursday night, Brian was flirting with me too, when I was sandwiched in-between he and his roommate in the cab. I told them, and I quote “I’m not fucking you guys”. Roomy was “offended” and said that, no one even mentioned sex...but you were thinking it, dude. His Roomy ended up leaving Friday & not staying for Brian’s going away party....that was lame...

2. Mr. Henry was the second to enter the “time-out” box. I was telling him about me being locked out of my place & the whole P.A.T.T. situation. He asked me where I slept, and I told him on Brian’s couch. He said, “you didn’t sleep on the damn couch”. I told him I had no reason to lie. Had I not said anything he would have never known...

1. Last night after Brian and I chilled. I dropped him off. 2:30am locked myself out my apartment again! I called him and he saved the day. I need some Ginkgo Biloba, stat

Stress Reliever

I need a “stress reliever” BAD. I’m not talking about Girls Night Out, or getting out of town for the weekend. I'm not talking about making a stiff drink and talking to friends about bad day.

I’m talking about the hair pulling, butt smacking marathons that you can let all of your aggressions, frustrations and anger out on. The one's where no talking is ok. The one that has you gripping backs, tugging sheets, sweating, and breathing like you just participated in a triathlon… the stress reliever that has you staying up all night, knowing you have to be at work in the morning, but you don’t care. The stress reliever that has you covering your mouth so you don’t wake the neighbors up, although the pounding of the headboard against the wall was sure to already do it.

Clients and work has me stressed. This weather has me stressed, job satisfaction has me stressed and the LACK of great, can’t talk afterwards, just get me a drink sex has me stressed… I’m almost tempted to make a call…and not to the Old Man….
Don’t worry. I’m just gonna take my stressed ass to bed.

Damn.