Recovery

In regards to alcohol, I know my limits and I know how to recover when I pass my limits. On weekends, recovery is easy. Weekdays are a bit tricky.

I usually pull myself out of bed in my normal routine at 7am and drag my pale, shaky, hungover body into work. I somehow make it through the 8 hours and then haul ass on the way home.

I plow through the door, eat like I'm in an eating competition, run up the stairs, and then collapse on my bed. I wake up sometime after midnight. Mind you, sometime before waking up at least one of my roomies (or a friend) busts into my room, annoys me, gets yelled at, and leaves.

Then, whenever I wake up, whether it is 1am or 3am, I get up and go out to either a gas station or a grocery store. Sometimes I call one of my drunk friends and I meet them at whatever bar they're at. Not to drink--just to converse.

So I needed to recover from Tuesday night. After my food binge and some blogging, I ran upstairs, plopped on my bed and passed out. Around 7pm a friend busted into my room, jumped on top of me, yelled "PLAY WITH ME," I screamed "GET OUT," and then they ran out. I fell right back to sleep. For once, I didn't get up again and go out.

I woke up at 7:30 this morning. I'm so refreshed. I got a cute text, "Why didn't you want to play with me last night?" I told them I was too busy recovering.