Anyone who knows me well, knows that I'm a mentallist. I get mental about lots of things ... stabby as well. Things like boys, my job, plebs, my housemates, the guy that works at my local IGA with the "Soul Glo" do, that Quizmania show, ugly backpackers, people who walk too slow, bar owners that don't give you cheaper drinks even though you've been drinking at their bar everyday for 12 months (stingy cunts, you know who you are!), ex-bf's, kool kids, boys (yes, they get mentioned twice), titty chicks, people who leave coffee in the sugar, the pizza delivery guy who brings me Coke instead of Sprite, and the list goes on ...
Generally after a big weekend of getting my booze and swerve on, I tend to get my emo on. And God help you if you call me on a Sunday cos you're gonna hear about it. But the one thing I've learned is that it takes two days to get over two nights of drinking. So, Wednesdays are usually the day when some semblance of normalcy returns to my brain, and my mentallism subsides (you'll note that Sunday isn't counted in those two days cos that's reserved for emo-ness).
After the Easter long weekend, one of my housemates, who I've decided to call CanaDan (on account of the fact that he's from Canada and his name is Dan ... duh!), was a little concerned about me on Sunday, as I looked and felt like death barely warmed up. But I assured him that all would be well by Wednesday.
And it is.
(Except for some misbehaving that has left one Superfriend mega devo at me, but I'm hoping he'll forgive me soon and we can go back to mid-week reps and weekend shenanigans once more ... fingers crossed, cos I love him to death and I'm truly sorry).
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