Last night, after I bitched about work. I downed two glasses of straight Maker's Mark and nearly vomitted my organs all over the place. I had to call off work today. I'm pretty sure they're pissed. I gave them a lame, "I have the stomach flu".

I was on the phone with Steve and I remembered saying "Oh god, I gotta puke" I closed my cell and just let go. He called me at 12 today, checking up on me, and he told me about stuff I said (Which is always fun...a repeat of how you were an ass)
and he said that I was cute, he missed getting drunk with me and cuddling.

I miss him, so much. He's my best friend, I've been friends with him for so long it would suck to be without him.

Anyway, Tomorrow I work at the Shelter...and I won't be sooo sick.