So, if you read my post from yesterday, you may have gotten a cocky vibe from it. I thought I had it. I thought I was prepared. When you’re trying to be sober, you can’t get cocky.
I basically set myself up to fail.
I was drunk by 5 o’ clock somewhere.
Went specifically looking for someone to make me “feel better” about my life. I found them.
And yada yada yada… I wound up in my driveway still drunk off my ass at midnight… You’re welcome to those of you that will understand the Seinfeld reference. There is so much that I could “yada” explain, but it’s probably not conducive to my reputation as a Southern lady. What reputation??? Grief. To quote Taylor Swift, “My reputation’s never been worse.”
So I will just say, my momma would not be happy or proud and my daddy (God peacefully rest his drunken soul) would think it was funny and praise me for “growing some balls” and “showing my husband what for.”
But how does that fix anything? How does my getting blackout drunk fix one thing in my life?
Well, one of those someone’s just rang my phone. Ugh. Note to self- you can’t hang out with sober people when you’re drunk and especially when they don’t know you’re drunk. They take everything you say or do to heart and then they think they “need/want/love/are in love with you. So whatever. I was just out letting Ray (me) have a good time. They were caught in the crossfire. Sorry about that. I don’t feel the same about them.
Yes. I know I’m a terrible person. I was looking for someone to save me. Didn’t happen.
Now, I sit here and contemplate how in the hell to get out of this fuckery I have done to myself.
Please don’t judge me, y’all.
Ray is not sober yet.
God help me.