It appears as if I drunk painted my nails again last night...
This is something that is becoming far too routine for me on the weekends.
It all starts with the fact that I tend to pick off my nail polish
after I've had a few too many drinks.
Well then I apparently come home,
and am upset with myself for having picked off all of my nail polish so I immediately repaint them right before bed.
And then I wake up with fingers that look like I've dipped them in paint buckets.
My pillow cases look the same way.
How weird is that?
I don't take off my makeup, sometimes my jeans are still on,
and yet I remember to paint my nails.
I guess I've got my drunk priorities, eh?
Just for the record,
I haven't college-drank like I did yesterday in quite awhile.
But it was Cinco de Mayo, what else was I supposed to do?
Chris and I went to a house party at Andy's in the late afternoon and it was pretty much all downhill after that.
It was typical Chicago May weather, crappy and cold, but we didn't let that stop the fun.
It started innocent enough with Coronas.
And then we took the next step up and had a few margaritas.
Then all morales went out the window when tequila shots started being passed around.
Chris looks forward to this day every year just so he can wear this jersey outside of the house...
I loathe tequila.
I feel like it's such a misleading name, so fun and delicious sounding,
as opposed to the nasty poison it actually is.
Next thing I knew Chris and I were back home shoveling nachos into our mouths like Gilbert Grape's mother.
Somewhere in between bathing myself in refried beans and falling asleep on the couch watching SNL,
I reached for the bottle of nail polish and worked my magic.
Needless to say, it's been a struggle of a Sunday.
I made one trip to 7-11 and came back with
1 DiGiorno pizza
2 Slim Jims
1 bag of Queso Ruffles
1 Diet Mt Dew
and
1 Arnold Palmer
As usual,
diet starts tomorrow.
