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Inexplicably Hung

I woke up this morning with a hefty hangover and a hint of priapism. Pulling the pillow over my eyes, I thought "what did I drink last night? And who slipped me a Viagra?"

I recapped the evening and realized that not only had I stayed home all night, I hadn't drank a thing, not even the smallest medicinal thimble of red wine (good for the heart and prostate). Really, not a drop all day.

So why the headache? The bleary eyes? The sore, semi-swollen, scratchy, erm, throat?

Maybe I'm drinking in my sleep. Somnambarhopping. It could happen. Larry eats in his. True story. He doesn't just grind his teeth, he chews and smacks his lips, and murmurs yummy sounds. For hours. It's cute for about 2 minutes, but 14 years later ...

So I excused myself from last night's midnight buffet and slept in the guest room. Or at least I tried to. Kept tossing and turning and going in and out of old recurring dream ... the one where I'm scheduled go on stage any minute and I don't know my lines and can't find a copy of the script. If memory served, we hadn't even rehearsed the second act. Hate when that happens.

This was a new show, however ... a big Broadway bonanza. My costume was a snazzy tuxedo but the shirt (with cardboard collar) didn't fit and nobody could find my trousers. A guy I used to wait tables with at Arnaud's was in the show too, frantically running around trying to find me some clothes.

Alas, there was no dead man in the window. (Ask him).

So here I blog, with a headache and a sore throat. There's a kid in the garden who's been screaming bloody murder for the past 20 minutes. If I wasn't so comfortable sitting naked on the couch, laptop keeping my bits (less engorged now, thanks for asking, I guess there'd been no blue pill after all) just a little toasty, I'd go out and have a word with Squealy McShriekerton.

Take the brat home if he's that friggin' miserable, why have him ruin an otherwise peaceful Sunday morning for the rest of the neighborhood?

And we breathe ....

Ah well, this too shall pass. Maybe it's the start of a cold and not a hangover at all. Vitamin C should help ... perhaps a Bloody Mary, some Aleve, and a few cold tablets. Best to cover all my bases.

Now, where did I put that prescription pad? I've got a barbeque in Walthamstow to get to. I'm told I can go naked. Yay.