So Friday the 13th got off with a bang, and I find myself sat at my desk with quite a delicate hangover, and a few 5ps left in my purse. Thought a quick post would be appropriate for my outlook on today. (Not that I can see without an alcohol gaze across my pupils).
As I approach 23 I realise I have nothing to show for it, but a dead end job and an empty purse. However, I have come to the conclusion, whilst sat looking at my diary for the next year, that if I die next week of any of the following, liver failure, sore feet, or dry mouth, I will know that I have lived my 22 years like an animal.
Also, I am meant to be going out tonight?? Don’t think it will ever end.
As time goes on, my Facebook feed is filled with engagements, weddings and baby drivel, but take a look at any of my nearest and dearest we pride ourselves in telling the world how were ‘Bladdered’, then ‘Hung-over’, Bladdered. Hung-over. Bladdered. And so on and so forth.
I am beginning to think that I will never grow up, settle down or set my status as ‘Oo baby Mitch did his first trump today.’ Well bloody done Mitchy.
Talk to ya Tomorrow….when I’m hungover.
Alcoholic Alice
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