I want to get an actual post about interesting things (instead of feelings) up, I’ve got topical things I want to right on, but life just keeps on coming.
*Boom tish*
I have written a bunch of personal posts lately, because obviously big things have been happening. (I’m doing really well by the way.) I’m always striving for honesty about my experiences and my life in my writing, but I wonder about the narrative flow. I feel like things that happen at a normal pace in real life come across as happening quickly when you are only notified of the big events, and I feel like things that happen quickly in real life are going to come across as weirdly instantaneous.
In just the last week I’ve been constantly slammed at work, been super social, gotten sick, nearly recovered, and my phone died and I got it replaced.
Any of those might merit a post if I had the energy at the end of the day to do a write up about it, but usually I don’t. I get to a week later and write about whatever the biggest thing to happen was. So you don’t get the whole story, like the one about my phone.
In my quest for continuous social distraction (which went far better than I could have hoped.) I went out to a drag show that one of my friends dances in on friday. I met a mutual friend who lives in Capitol Hill at her place, and parked my car, and made myself a pre-event cocktail.
Now, I figured I’d just mix up the last little bit of vodka in the bottle I brought, which as it turns out was rather a lot. (Maybe six or seven ounces.) So I began my evening by getting trashed. That’s not why my phone drowned though. Yeah, I was sloppy drunk, but really it’s all my bladder’s fault.
For some reason no matter how devil-may-care I am, my bladder is shy as fuck, which makes public restroom usage a tricky thing. I tried going once, and there were people, just having a conversation in there, and obviously I couldn’t pee then. So I had to pretend I went, wash my hands and head out and enjoy the show for a bit.
When enough time had past that it didn’t seem weird that I was going to the bathroom again, I gave it another shot. The stall was free and I figured that was my best bet. But, still unsure of my ability to relax enough to pee, I whipped out my phone to distract myself from my surroundings long enough to relieve my swollen bladder. And that’s when it swanned dived to it’s demise.
Totally not because I was drunk.
Like drunk Harry Potter drunk!