Hangovers and Relevations

Last night I drank way too much. The next morning after falling asleep at four in the morning, I woke up at nine and dragged my butt to karate. I almost passed out and/or vomited during the forty jumping jacks and the knuckle push ups. Ugh. I can't even imagine.

After coming home, though, I got hit by that big depressive 'what NOW?!' thing as usually after a night of hard drinking I tend to get into a funk and be an overall depressing and depressed person. It's always one of those days where the medication doesn't help, I don't know why. It just doesn't.

But! Today! I decided. I felt very alone, very upset. Ashley came over and helped me with it by sitting here, listening to me rant, and watching Heroes with my lame self. Before she made it over here, I came to the fantastic decision that, screw it, I will be getting to Virginia as soon as I can, even if Daddio is still in a hotel. I need to get out of here.

Now is when I have to talk to him about it, though, as my happy butt can't just drive up there without telling him. It's utter suckage.

This post has no other meaning than to write this out and put my emotions on paper. Rock on, my friends. Rock on.