Friday overbooked/partially cancelled.

I'd made a promise to myself never to scheduling things in an unrealistic manner. While I may be eager to fulfill all my engagements, it's too much stress. Friday, I had set up a very ambitious list of events. I was to go to my parent's (currently in absentia) house where my brother's girlfriend was making a dinner for the siblings and their significant others, along with my grandmother. Then I was hoping to get to Barrage for GB:NYC2, graciously organized by Mark, whom my blogger pals were attending: Full List Here. If the night flowed right, I would saunter on over to Spirit where Junior Vasquez was spinning in "Relentless", his Twilo classics party.

Friday didn't start off well.

Rewind, Thursday night, I was out with Robocub. With the Robocub/Evilbuddha seal of approval, here is his account. What he doesn't account for, is my train ride home. I'd be remiss if I said that I didn't look like a drunkard fool. I'd had two drinks, okay maybe two and a half since I spilled half of my first drink, thanks to a poorly designed bar with a lip at GYM. Erik and I had eaten dinner too. But I was wasted going home. So much so, I was channeling Methadonia. (FYI, Citizens of methadonia are those people you find, generally around methadone clinics, who are standing in the middle of the sidewalk, moving sloth-like and usually hunched over themselves.) On the subway, I was falling asleep on my feet, a few times catching myself, starting to hunch over. Totally embarrassing. Somehow, I'd gotten it into my head that I need to get off the train at 59th Street in Brooklyn. I WAS ALREADY ON THE TRAIN I NEEDED TO BE ON! I sobered up quickly when I realized my mistake and focused the rest of the way home.

So back to Friday morning, I got up late. Real late. My allergies, coupled with the alcohol consumption threw my body clock out of whack. Hungover? No. Lethargic? Yes. Unamused? Completely. I got to work 2 hours late. Thankfully, my manager is understanding. Things were falling back in line by 5, when I headed home.

I was out of it all day and I'd hoped a nap would even me out. I napped for a half hour. When I woke up, I felt worse. Ever wake up nauseous? Yeah, that was me.

I was cranky and I set out to my parent's in this mood. I managed to get through the night without offending anyone. I don't think they were able to tell. I'm crotchety anyway it seems. Grandma was cute when she would get upset with my younger brother talking like a retard. Actually he was talking like 50 cent. Odd, no? Dinner was good. I enjoyed spending time with my brother's and their significant others. BF wasn't comfortable hanging with granny, so I allowed him to bow out.

I watched the time tick by, knowing I was missing the guys at Barrage. I did want to go, but my surliness and fatigue negated any such thoughts. I called RoboCub to inform him that I wouldn't make it. More like "If you see me, you see me."

My sincerest apologies to Mark and all the bloggers I was hoping to meet in person.

11:00PM - I arrived home with a dinner care package for the BF, disappointed I couldn't get to Barrage, still mulling the thought of Junior at Spirit.

12:30AM - I was slipping into bed and signing off for the night.

That is, until 4:45AM rolled around.