Who would’ve thought this all would unravel in the third week? It’s Wednesday night and I haven’t darkened the door of the gym since…well…since last Thursday. What gives?
Well, for starters, there was the margarita the size of my head last Friday. Then the two-martini dinner before “Avenue Q” on Saturday. (Sidebar: if you haven’t seen “Avenue Q”, go. Don’t walk, run to your nearest theater, buy tickets, and learn all the things they really couldn’t say on Sesame Street.) And Sunday involved Bloody Mary brunch and a lazy day on the sofa. As if I hadn’t pickled myself enough through all that, Monday night I had a date.
An honest-to-God date. It’s been awhile. It was fantastic. The guy is incredible. The conversation flowed easily. So did the wine. As the conversation continued to flow, so did the wine. And the wine and the conversation and the wine and the conversation…you get the picture.
Tuesday was miserable.
Which brings me to today: the first day I’ve felt mostly normal since…well…since last Thursday.
OMG, a real date. Maybe that gym time is paying dividends?
When ya got it, ya got it! (But nice guns help, too.)