At Least the Flannel Was Saved
One of those boring, couple-y mornings at Albertsons, wandering the aisles in search of the thing that would take the pounding out of my brain and the hollow from my stomach. He grabbing for staples like bread and peanut butter, me grumbling about doing chores hungover. And then, ah shit. Really. “Hey, give me your flannel and the car keys. I’ll be back in a minute.” I drove back home and threw everything away except his flannel, which went straight into the wash. Then straight back to the store to find him on the curb with our groceries giving me the knowing/not wanting to know look. – Allison K.
Red Wine is the Devil’s Diuretic
I woke up in the ER, naked and cold. I asked a nurse, “Where are my clothes?” “The paramedics cut them off, you peed and pooped yourself”. I also had vomit in my hair. When I left the hospital I said, “Red wine makes me crazy, I’m switching to vodka.” – Monica C.
An old friend visited, I had to prove I was thriving.
I nibbled my pancake (not sad), I drank too much soju (not depressed), I don’t remember the rest (very normal).
I woke up, a strip club commemorative hat covering my face.
The bed was wet. I blamed the cat. – Stephanie R.
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