Birthday Story 3: The Time I Threw Up

The birthday I think I'm the most proud of at this point in my life involves vomit. Of course.

It was my 23rd birthday. I had planned to visit some friends from college in Ohio (there seems to be an absurd amount of people from Ohio where I went to college) & figured I'd go during my birthday because then I had a better chance of having fun. We'll see about that...

For my actual birthday, I was celebrating with Robyn & Neil. At the time, they were living together in an apartment connected to Robyn's dad's apartment. However, Robyn was essentially living with his girlfriend (the same girlfriend he visited me with last summer) so I basically just stayed with Neil. Anyway.

The 3 of us, Robyn's girlfriend, & his dad (who is awesome) went to some Mexican restaurant. It just happened to be margarita night. Because THAT'S always a good idea. Robyn's dad bought us some pitchers, but they tasted kind of funny. All of us thought so. That didn't prevent me from drinking 3 glasses of some of the jankiest margaritas ever, though.

So after dinner we went to see "Bruno" (I know...). By this point, I'm feeling like warmed-over shit. We get in the theater & I excuse myself to go to the bathroom. I don't puke. I don't pee. I'm just...in there. Then I go back to the theater. Then back to the bathroom where I don't do anything. This continues for the first part of the movie. By about the halfway point, I gave up & just stayed in the bathroom, where I proceeded to fall asleep sitting on the floor in the stall while leaning against the wall. At least I think that's how I fell asleep. I'm going to tell myself to remember it that way because the thought of me falling asleep on a public bathroom floor any other way is too frightening.

I had been gone so long that Robyn eventually came to get me. He forced me up, told me I wasn't that drunk (he was wrong) & I saw the end of the movie. I was not impressed.

We finally got back to the apartment where I went to sit on the bed. After a few minutes I got that feeling. You know the one (well, you do unless you're Aubree) after you've drank too much & you know exactly what the outcome is going to be. So I hurried as fast as I could to the bathroom. And I puked. A few times.

I tell you what though, I felt awesome afterwards. I laid on the bed & listened to Neil, Robyn, & Sarah talk for a bit. Then I wasn't even drunk anymore & I had so much energy! That is until I got a call from Alexa who was wishing me a happy birthday & also to tell me her cat of 16 years had died.

Also, a few days later I went back with some other people to see "Bruno" while I was sober. I liked it better when I was borderline comatose & not actually in the theater.

Just Rambling

I went to the library a little while ago to get a book.

I couldn't find a book I wanted so I got 2 movies instead. Because that's a brain-stimulating alternative.

Both are going to be my rewards for finishing this damn independent study paper. Seriously, I'm STILL dicking around with it & I have 2 more assignments to go before the end of the month, on top of finishing all of my admissions junk for Liberty.

Also, here I am getting my chest waxed a few weeks ago when Robyn & Sarah were visiting:

Yeah, we gave up after our failure to make a decent happy trail...

That Time I Kept Saying I Was Going To Quit

Remember how I was going to turn in my notice this weekend?

Yeah, didn't happen.

I decided to ride this out as best I can. I want to leave, but just can't. I don't want to give them the satisfaction of me quitting (I'm nothing if not spiteful & vindictive). I enjoy spending time with the clients & being able to make connections with them. I enjoy feeling like I'm helping them. I enjoy how excited some of them get when they see me, to tell me new information about their recovery or what their plan is once they leave. Granted, all of those things are part of why I have "boundary issues" & get me in trouble, but screw that. I'm a relational person, I like to help, the clients want me to help. End of story.

Now, they've hired some new people so I'm sure the end is nigh, but whatever happens happens. I can't control their decision. All I can control is how I do my job & how I react. If I get fired, it's not a reflection of me. It's a reflection of them.

In other news, Robyn & Sarah are coming in 1 day. I need to clean out my car & try to air it out so it stops smelling like bottled up ass. I also need to get ready to be out in the sun a lot, as well as for my liver to hate me (I'm pretty sure I'll be drinking more than I have for a while).