Ow.../My Time In Da Hood
Obviously, I should not have continued to drink after getting home last night from seeing Voltair. On my personal hangover scale, where 1 is "not an ache anywhere, but I could sure use a glass of water," and 10 is "I would blow my own brains out to stop the pain of the lumberjack trying to axe his way through my skull if only my hands would stop shaking long enough to hold the fucking gun," I would rate today's reminder of last night's indiscretions a solid 7. Thankfully, the coffee and Advil have gotten rid of most of the spins when I close my eyes. Yea, binge drinking!
In a related note, the upside of coming into work on my day off to show a car is there are few things in life more effective at distracting oneself from life's bitter unpleasantness than selling cars. It is damn near impossible to find a slow enough moment, or a quite enough space to brood in. Dealerships are a brood-free zone. The downside today was sitting in the back seat of a test driven Camry, my aching head inches away from a 6x9 speaker in the rear deck, while young Mister Man pumped out his thumpin' wigger tunez at thunder volume. Absolutely fucking priceless.
In a related note, the upside of coming into work on my day off to show a car is there are few things in life more effective at distracting oneself from life's bitter unpleasantness than selling cars. It is damn near impossible to find a slow enough moment, or a quite enough space to brood in. Dealerships are a brood-free zone. The downside today was sitting in the back seat of a test driven Camry, my aching head inches away from a 6x9 speaker in the rear deck, while young Mister Man pumped out his thumpin' wigger tunez at thunder volume. Absolutely fucking priceless.