So, once again I find myself at Fancy Pants Manor along with my sister, her husband, my daughter, my niece and my nephew. We are (sadly) here taking turns visiting my mom in hospice and just waiting for the inevitable. It is sad and super depressing and seems a bit morbid sitting around waiting for somebody to die. But with my family, we spend equal parts crying and laughing as we find new and more elaborate ways to distract ourselves.
Last night was drinking.
Drinking is never a good idea for anybody on as many psych meds as I am but, unfortunately, that warning fell on deaf ears so I woke up feeling like I spent last night screaming and licking the carpet.
Wow, that sounded way less scandalous before I wrote it down but I’m gonna leave it anyway.
We apparently played Catch Phrase until 2am and my niece thought it would be hilarious to record it. Turns out that I’m still as good at playing this game drunk but I’m ten times more obnoxious about winning. Great combination.
My daughter hates when I drink and tells me so anytime I think I might contemplate doing so. My niece tells me that she loves me drunk and fills my cup anytime she hears the ice empty in the bottom of my glass. This is how I went from slightly numb to pleasantly buzzed to completely falling down hammered in one smooth easy transition.
Apparently, I also thought it would be a good time to take to Facebook to tell random people that I loved them and that I missed their faces. Just their faces? A lot of mistakes were made last night but I think the slew of spelling and grammatical errors I made will haunt me until I die
